An Uninvited Guest

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The better Chen Xianzhi understood Shixu’s condition, the lighter and more agile he felt since waking. At the training ground, Chen Xianzhi was stretching and loosening his body. The long sword in his hand moved as if it were part of him, his graceful movements as swift and elegant as a startled swan, truly a delight to behold.

Shixu sat nearby, quietly enjoying the pastries Chen Xianzhi had specially requested from the kitchen. Simply by sitting there, she seemed to invigorate him with energy.

At that moment, a servant came to inform them that the Third Prince had arrived.

Reluctantly, Chen Xianzhi sheathed his sword and stepped forward to greet him.

Prince Ji Yun approached with a calm, refined demeanor befitting royalty, dressed in simple yet elegant attire. What stood out most was the strange Taoist priest in a robe who accompanied him.

“I’ve brought some tonics today, and I thought I’d casually come see Elder Sister Shi for little An,” Ji Yun said with a faint smile. Yet his gaze fixed intently on Shixu, as if coiled like a venomous serpent—an unsettling chill permeated the air.

Chen Xianzhi instructed a servant to receive the gifts and invited Ji Yun to sit.

However, Chen Xianzhi noticed that the peculiar Taoist behind Ji Yun had been watching Shixu intently since entering the estate, stirring a sense of unease within him.

“Thank you for your concern, Your Highness. Shixu and I are both doing well,” Chen Xianzhi said with a forced smile, masking his true feelings.

“I have another matter to discuss,” Ji Yun said. “In a few days, it will be my birthday. I wonder if both of you might honor me with your presence.” Though phrased as a question, the tone brooked no refusal.

Chen Xianzhi’s expression darkened slightly, but he replied, “Since Your Highness insists, we will certainly attend.”

With that, Ji Yun took his leave promptly, for he had other affairs to attend to.

Shixu remained seated, acutely aware of a presence watching her—a deeply discomforting sensation.

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She looked up and saw the Taoist behind Ji Yun. His eyes harbored a disturbing darkness that set her nerves on edge.

Once Ji Yun and his retinue had departed, Chen Xianzhi hurried to inquire about Shixu’s condition.

“I believe Ji Yun came for you today,” Chen Xianzhi said anxiously.

Shixu nodded in agreement.

“That Taoist behind Ji Yun is unsettling,” she said in a cool, resolute tone.

Chen Xianzhi felt a growing sense of foreboding.

“Son, that young lady’s background makes it impossible for her to be your legitimate wife,” Consort De said, watching Ji Yun kneel respectfully. The more she observed her son, the more inscrutable he seemed.

“I favor Shixu, and she shall be my rightful wife,” Ji Yun declared with unwavering determination that left Consort De powerless to object.

Having grown up beside the Emperor and just recently come of age, Ji Yun wielded considerable influence at court.

“Very well, I will petition your father for an imperial decree,” Consort De reluctantly agreed.

Ji Yun left the hall with eyes full of resolve.

“Third Prince, Miss Shi is no ordinary mortal; she is a goddess from the Ninth Heaven,” the Taoist reported.

“Interesting. I have fallen for a goddess,” Ji Yun said, tapping the table with one hand, a hint of excitement in his voice.

“Then according to what Master Zhang says, how can I keep this goddess by my side?” Ji Yun narrowed his eyes, his tone laced with menace.

Perspiration dripped from the Taoist’s forehead. He knew this prince was far from the gentle and kind facade he showed.

“Perhaps a formation could bind her here,” Master Zhang’s voice trembled as he answered.

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“Then I’ll await your good news,” Ji Yun said casually as he stood and strode out, leaving the Taoist collapsed on the floor.

That binding formation was an ancient and powerful one. Should it be truly cast, it might drain half of his spiritual energy.

Meanwhile, Chen Xianzhi had been tinkering in his room all afternoon. When Wan Sheng brought in dinner, he found his young master with tousled hair, one hand clutching an ancient tome, the other busy sketching on yellow talismans.

“Wan Sheng, since I woke up, I feel I’ve gained a knack for drawing talismans,” Chen Xianzhi said, holding up a stack of intricate talisman papers.

After learning that Ji Yun had invited him and Shixu to his birthday banquet, Chen Xianzhi planned to prepare some talismans. Unexpected dangers might arise, and he must protect Shixu.

“Young master, have you forgotten what day tomorrow is?” Wan Sheng chided with a mixture of frustration and concern.

“What day tomorrow?” Chen Xianzhi’s head was still buried among the talismans, indifferent.

“The Qiqiao Festival, young master,” Wan Sheng said as he placed the dinner on the table, deftly arranging the dishes.

“Oh, right. Tomorrow is the Qiqiao Festival. Why?” Chen Xianzhi’s mind suddenly clicked.

“It’s the perfect opportunity for you to express your feelings,” Wan Sheng urged, stepping closer with the earnestness of a devoted nursemaid.

Chen Xianzhi suddenly realized the truth. Tomorrow was indeed an excellent occasion.

After a moment’s thought, Chen Xianzhi beckoned Wan Sheng over and quietly instructed him to prepare something.

Now filled with determination, Chen Xianzhi resolved to prepare a surprise for tomorrow’s festival.