Vindicated After a Wrongful Death - Chapter 17

Sect Leader Yi stared at the dice on the table in utter disbelief. “This…”

Qiong Eryi cut him off with practiced ease. “This is impossible—tch, you lot say the same few lines every time you lose. Can’t you come up with something fresh for once?”

Sect Leader Yi: “…”

The surrounding crowd: “…”

With a languid air, Qiong Eryi lightly traced the six pips beneath his eye with a finger. He crooked a finger at Yi Junting, who was sitting obediently to the side sipping tea. With a smirk, he said, “Little Junting, your father went and lost you to me again.”

Yi Junting: “…”

Yi Junting shot up, tugging at his father’s sleeve in grievance.

Sect Leader Yi patted his son’s hand to soothe him, turning back with his earlier rage replaced by a heavy seriousness. “Master Qiong, I have stakes that will undoubtedly interest you. I suggest you reconsider.”

“Not interested,” Qiong Eryi replied cheerfully. “You lost to me, so I’m the one who decides what the stakes are. That is the law of Shuangxian City.”

Sect Leader Yi glared at him, but having lost so decisively, it wouldn’t do to make a scene in front of so many people. He could only let out a cold laugh. “I hope you do not regret this later.”

Qiong Eryi maintained his infuriating “not listening” expression.

Yi Junting hadn’t even processed why he had been used as a bargaining chip. The moment he set his cup down, Qiong Eryi grabbed his wrist and pulled him into the chair beside him.

Yi Junting instinctively tried to stand, but with a casual tug, Qiong Eryi sent him tumbling back into the seat.

Qiong Eryi said lazily, “Don’t fidget.”

As if long accustomed to this, Yi Junting sat perfectly still and behaved.

Fuming, Sect Leader Yi flicked his sleeves and stormed off.

Qiong Eryi hadn’t had his fill of gambling yet. Looking at the crowd, he swept the piles of jade on the table aside. The crisp clatter echoed through the room as he drawled, “Anyone else want to go a round with me?”

The onlookers exchanged glances, hesitant and uncertain.

Just then, a clear, melodic voice rang out from the side. “I will.”

The crowd parted as Xiang Zhongjing stepped forward at a leisurely pace. He took the seat Sect Leader Yi had just vacated, his eyes flashing with a half-smile from behind his veil.

The veil Man Qiuxia had given him was designed to block prying eyes, and not a single person present could pierce the array.

When Qiong Eryi saw the person before him, his casual confidence vanished, replaced by a sudden, heavy gravity.

Instinct told him the person in front of him was dangerous.

The dice on Qiong Eryi’s earring suddenly began to spin at a frantic speed, stopping abruptly the moment Xiang Zhongjing sat down.

Snake eyes, two ones.

The six pips beneath his eye had somehow shifted into a single dot, looking remarkably like a tear-drop beauty mark.

Qiong Eryi froze. He raised a hand to touch the single dot beneath his eye, his expression one of utter disbelief and mounting dread.

In all his years in Shuangxian City, he had never experienced such wretched luck.

Xiang Zhongjing’s gaze swept over the three single pips on his ear and eye. With a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, he said, “What’s wrong? Shake the dice.”

Qiong Eryi was immensely confident in his gambling skills. He tried to force the pips under his eye to change by rubbing them with his thumb. The count struggled up to a three, but quickly plummeted back down to a two.

Qiong Eryi took a deep breath, his punchable smirk long gone. He asked tentatively, “Are you betting on high… or low?”

Hearing this, Xiang Zhongjing felt a sudden urge to pin this irritating sword to the ground and thrash it.

Xiang Zhongjing traced a light circle on the gambling table with a slender finger, encompassing both high and low. He laughed, a cold, sharp sound. “I’m betting on both.”

Qiong Eryi: “…”

Everyone who frequented gambling dens knew the rules. Even the most ignorant amateur wouldn’t say something as foolish as “betting on both.”

In the entire world of Jiuzhou, the only person who could say that with a straight face was…

The surrounding crowd, however, burst into laughter, mocking the newcomer for daring to gamble without knowing the first thing about it.

But the more observant guests noticed Qiong Eryi’s reaction—a man who had never lost in years—and realized things weren’t that simple.

The earring spun again, and the pips beneath his eye dropped back to one.

Before the game had even begun, he looked like a defeated man, his forehead drenched in cold sweat.

Qiong Eryi swallowed hard, his hand shaking as he gripped the dice cup. He looked at Xiang Zhongjing warily and squeaked, “You…”

Seeing that Qiong Eryi had recognized him, Xiang Zhongjing didn’t feel like sitting at this annoying table any longer. He tapped his finger against the wood. “I’ll give you fifteen minutes to clear this place out.”

Qiong Eryi gasped so sharply he nearly choked himself to death.

He recalled Sect Leader Yi’s words—”I have stakes that will undoubtedly interest you,” “I hope you do not regret this”—and finally realized what he had missed.

He regretted it!

In less than fifteen minutes, every guest in Shuangxian City had been politely escorted out by wooden puppets.

This was the first time in fifty years that Shuangxian City had closed its doors early. The crowd was full of complaints, but there was nothing they could do, so they left grumbling and swearing.

The gambling den, once a sea of people, was now eerily empty.

On the second floor of Shuangxian City, Xiang Zhongjing leaned lazily against a soft couch. “Twenty-one, look at you, all grown up and running a gambling den,” he said with a smirk.

Qiong Eryi tried to act tough, saying coldly, “I’ll open one if I want to. It’s none of your business.”

Xiang Zhongjing: “…”

Xiang Zhongjing’s lip twitched slightly. “Stand up when you talk to me.”

The kneeling Qiong Eryi: “…”

Qiong Eryi stiffened his neck, using his toughest tone to say the most cowardly thing. “I’m not getting up. You’re definitely going to scold me.”

Xiang Zhongjing rested a foot on the man’s knee, looking down at him. He was almost amused by how infuriating this stupid sword was. Gritting his teeth, he said, “And if you stay kneeling, I won’t scold you?”

Qiong Eryi replied, “Well, my apologetic attitude is right here. If you want to scold me, you’ll have to check if my knees are firmly on the ground first.”

Xiang Zhongjing: “…”

Gu Congxu: “…”

What kind of twisted logic was that?

Sure enough, anyone associated with Xiang Zhongjing was far from normal.

Xiang Zhongjing, exhausted by Qiong Eryi’s antics, sighed and beckoned him over. “Come here.”

Qiong Eryi’s head hung low, his eyes rimmed with red. Hearing those words, he couldn’t hold back anymore. He pushed off with one leg and lunged straight into Xiang Zhongjing’s arms.

Xiang Zhongjing held him, gently patting his back.

Qiong Eryi buried his face against Xiang Zhongjing’s waist, his voice muffled. “They all said you were dead.”

Xiang Zhongjing ruffled Qiong Eryi’s hair as if stroking a large cat. “You and I share a life-and-death contract. Shouldn’t you know best whether I’m dead or not?”

“Back then, I escaped from the Sandu Secret Realm to find Man Qiuxia to save you, but before I could enter Wujin City, the secret realm closed,” Qiong Eryi said. “At that moment, I could no longer sense our contract.”

Xiang Zhongjing was taken aback. “Then Shuangxian City…”

“Shuangxian City is a small world manifested from the last bit of spiritual energy you left in me.” Qiong Eryi sounded incredibly aggrieved. “I was trapped. I couldn’t get out no matter what I did.”

Xiang Zhongjing hadn’t realized that Shuangxian City was actually his own small world. Seeing Qiong Eryi looking so pitiful, he softened his voice and said tenderly, “Our Twenty-one has suffered, hasn’t he?”

Seeing that playing the victim worked, Qiong Eryi immediately exaggerated. “I suffered so much! I couldn’t control the small world, and this place is so remote that no one ever came. If some kids hadn’t stumbled in by accident, I would have gone mad from boredom!”

Xiang Zhongjing laughed. “So that’s why you opened a gambling den?”

Qiong Eryi hugged Xiang Zhongjing’s waist again, shaking him desperately. “But I was bored! Anyone trapped in a place with no one around would lose their mind. Master, please have some pity on me.”

Xiang Zhongjing didn’t say anything.

In the sea of consciousness, Gu Congxu’s brow furrowed. He thought to himself: He was imprisoned even longer than you, and you don’t see anyone pitying him.

As soon as the thought surfaced, Gu Congxu was stunned. He was so annoyed with himself he nearly twisted his own body into a knot.

Having finished his sob story and seeing Xiang Zhongjing looking gentle, Qiong Eryi asked tentatively with a final glimmer of hope, “Master, you aren’t angry anymore, right?”

Xiang Zhongjing smiled at him but didn’t answer. Instead, he asked, “What do you want with Yi Junting?”

Qiong Eryi’s arrogance from the gambling table had completely vanished. He answered Xiang Zhongjing’s every question. “I’ve won many lamps over the years. Using mermaid candles can keep them lit for a century, but every so often, I need someone to come and trim the wicks.”

Very few people knew that Qiong Eryi was Xiang Zhongjing’s natal sword. Sect Leader Yi of Linjiang Peak was one of them.

Xiang Zhongjing stood up and walked to the window, looking down.

The boy in blue was holding a lamp, carefully trimming the wick with scissors. He looked like he was already used to the task.

Xiang Zhongjing felt a headache coming on just looking at the gambling table downstairs that hadn’t been cleared away yet. He shot a glance at Qiong Eryi, looking like he was about to lose his temper.

Qiong Eryi reacted instantly, making a move to drop back to his knees. His face screamed, If you scold me again, I’m kneeling!

Not a shred of dignity.

Xiang Zhongjing: “…”

Xiang Zhongjing was so exasperated he lost his will to be angry. “Stop running this gambling den of yours. I’m taking you out of here.”

Hearing that he could finally leave, Qiong Eryi’s eyes lit up. “Yes!”

For a sword spirit, staying in a master’s small world for years was usually standard, but Qiong Eryi was a bit different.

He loved gambling, and he loved the noise and bustle of the mortal world even more.

Xiang Zhongjing wasn’t very familiar with controlling the small world. As he walked downstairs, he asked Gu Congxu, “How do I put this small world away?”

Gu Congxu was still coiled in a corner, looking extremely displeased.

Seeing him remain silent, Xiang Zhongjing said softly, “What is it? Who upset our Sange?”

Hearing that unconsciously flirtatious tone, Gu Congxu felt even more annoyed. He muttered, “Don’t call me Sange.”

Xiang Zhongjing chuckled.

Not wanting Xiang Zhongjing to think he was being childish, Gu Congxu explained in a deep voice, “To take it back, you need the spiritual power of a Nascent Soul.”

In short: I’m still coiled around your Nascent Soul, so don’t even think about taking it back.

Xiang Zhongjing: “…”

In the time it took to exchange those few words, Xiang Zhongjing had reached the ground floor. Yi Junting, who was obediently trimming wicks, heard the footsteps and quickly stood up to give a salute.

“Senior.”

Yi Junting didn’t recognize Xiang Zhongjing, but seeing that even Qiong Eryi treated him with respect, he assumed this person must be of high status and should not be slighted.

Xiang Zhongjing gave him a strange look. “Did your father not tell you who Qiong Eryi is?”

Yi Junting looked at him blankly. “Isn’t he the manager of Shuangxian City?”

Xiang Zhongjing laughed helplessly and reached up to remove the veil from his face.

Yi Junting’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. “S-S-Sword Sovereign Xiang?!”

Xiang Zhongjing gave a casual “mm,” took the lamp Yi Junting had just trimmed, and inspected it. His mood finally improved a little.

Yi Junting was in a daze.

Just now, he thought he had heard the wild and unbridled Qiong Eryi call out “Master” in a timid voice before following Xiang Zhongjing upstairs.

Qiong Eryi’s master was Xiang Zhongjing.

Sword Sovereign Xiang had never formed a contract with a spirit beast. The only thing that could call him master was a spirit sword.

Yi Junting nearly choked on his own spit. He coughed violently while looking at Xiang Zhongjing in horror.

He finally understood why his father always brought him to Shuangxian City for “fun” and “lost” him every time to do manual labor trimming wicks. It turned out his father had known Qiong Eryi’s identity all along.

Yi Junting coughed until tears came to his eyes.

Xiang Zhongjing held the lamp up, giving it a gentle nudge with his finger. The bright lamp floated upward, joining the countless other styles of lamps overhead.

Once Yi Junting had calmed down, Xiang Zhongjing asked, “Do you know where to register for the Beast Taming Grand Ceremony?”

Yi Junting blurted out, “You’re participating in the ceremony?”

Xiang Zhongjing nodded.

Yi Junting nodded frantically. “Oh, oh, yes! I know! I’ll take you there!”

The more Xiang Zhongjing looked at him, the more he liked the boy. “Thank you.”

Yi Junting’s face flushed red again.

Gu Congxu churned within the sea of consciousness, letting out a cold laugh. “Do you just flirt with everyone you meet?”

Xiang Zhongjing blinked. “Hmm?”

Gu Congxu said nothing more.

First it was Yi Junting, then it was Man Qiuxia, this man’s unconscious actions were enough to steal anyone’s soul away, yet he maintained such an innocent expression.

A moment later, Qiong Eryi leaped down from the second floor, stepping across the floating lamps. “Master!”

Thinking about going out to see the colorful world, Qiong Eryi was overjoyed and lunged straight for his master’s embrace.

Xiang Zhongjing was still wondering what Gu Congxu’s remark meant. Being distracted, he stepped to the side, and Qiong Eryi let out a “pfft-ack” as he face-planted onto the floor.

Yi Junting: “…”

Pfft.

Qiong Eryi was perfectly willing to kneel before Xiang Zhongjing; he was utterly shameless and didn’t feel embarrassed at all.

He scrambled up and slung an arm around Yi Junting’s neck, grinning. “Were you just laughing at me?”

Yi Junting immediately pressed his lips into a tight line, signaling: I’m not laughing, I’m about to cry.

Knowing the foul temper of his sword and not wanting to see him bully Yi Junting, Xiang Zhongjing placed a hand on the back of Qiong Eryi’s neck. With a slight nudge to the life-and-death contract in his mind, Qiong Eryi instantly transformed into a brilliant, shimmering sword.

Xiang Zhongjing frowned as he looked at the three translucent jade-bone dice on the sword’s tassel. He felt an urge to rip them off and throw them away, but he decided against it.

He led Yi Junting out of Shuangxian City. After a moment of dizziness, they were back in front of the dilapidated stone archway.

Yi Junting suddenly realized something and said hurriedly, “I haven’t finished trimming the wicks yet!”

He still remembered that he was the stakes his father had lost.

Xiang Zhongjing couldn’t stop laughing. “There’s no need to trim them anymore.”

Looking at his laughing face, Yi Junting froze, his face turning red once again.

Gu Congxu let out a scoff.

A total femme fatale.

Blushing, Yi Junting started to lead Xiang Zhongjing toward the registration for the Beast Taming Grand Ceremony. But after only a few steps, they saw someone in the distance wearing a garish red and purple butterfly-patterned robe, flying toward them like a giant moth.

Yi Junting blinked in confusion. “Sword Sovereign, who is that?”

Xiang Zhongjing tilted his umbrella slightly just as the “butterfly” reached them with incredible speed.

The youthful Jin Chuling was covered in tears, his face as pale as paper. He charged toward Xiang Zhongjing with the reckless intensity of a moth to a flame.

“Brother Xiang!”

Xiang Zhongjing: “…”

Oh, boy.

One Su Cansheng leaves, and another Jin Chuling arrives.

Gu Congxu poked half his head out of Xiang Zhongjing’s sleeve, his golden vertical pupils glaring coldly at the little snake.