Chapter 17: We Do Not Deal in Mysticism
Shen Nanxiang’s face turned ashen. “Does that mean the porcelain can’t return to the ancient tomb?”
“Officer Wei will escort the artifact to the museum. There’s no need to worry,” Lu Qingfei replied. After a brief pause, she asked, “You know what his profession is, don’t you?” Despite being from ancient times, someone who had lived for thousands of years like Shen Nanxiang should be aware that the police were trustworthy.
Shen Nanxiang’s expression softened, and she nodded. “I know—he’s a cool-headed commander.”
Lu Qingfei was momentarily speechless. She shouldn’t have asked.
Hearing from Wei Ze that Liu Guanyun would also be arriving, Lu Qingfei decided to linger a little longer.
“Just now, that... um...” Wei Ze hesitated, unsure how to address Shen Nanxiang. Ghost? Princess? Neither seemed polite.
Lu Qingfei understood his unfinished question. “She’s still here, but you can’t see her anymore.” She had withdrawn her demonic aura, rendering Shen Nanxiang invisible to others.
Wei Ze seemed to grasp her meaning, asking no further questions, and instead turned his attention to Mei Kaihan, whose face was the very picture of despair.
*
The spiritual energy of her third senior brother danced in Lu Qingfei’s palm. Gazing at the clouds tinged with sunset, her eyes grew contemplative, and a soft smile played at her lips.
An unexpected gain, she thought.
Shen Nanxiang nervously picked at her fingers, hesitating. “Um, could you...”
Lu Qingfei glanced sideways. “Could I what?”
“Could you burn me a copy of that novel?” Shen Nanxiang sighed. “I haven’t finished reading it yet. At the author’s current pace, there’s still a hundred and thirty-five years to go before it’s completed.”
Now that the porcelain would be safe in the museum, no longer at risk of being stolen by tomb robbers, Shen Nanxiang would be able to enter reincarnation, no longer bound to the ceramic.
Lu Qingfei raised a brow. “Do you really think the author will still be alive in a hundred and thirty-five years?”
Shen Nanxiang’s eyes lit up, and she laughed joyfully. “That’s true. In that case, I’ll just wait for the author by the Bridge of Forgetfulness.”
Author: Help! My reader is waiting for me at the Bridge of Forgetfulness!
Lu Qingfei regarded Shen Nanxiang thoughtfully.
If every artifact had a Shen Nanxiang, archaeologists would be grinning in their sleep. There’d be no need for endless research—they could simply ask the artifacts about their history.
Archaeology would become a celebration, with artifacts telling their own stories.
After some contemplation, Lu Qingfei dismissed the idea. Shen Nanxiang had suffered enough; there shouldn’t be another like her. Besides, if every artifact could recount its own history, what would be left for archaeologists to do—be mascots?
In the distance, the wail of sirens grew louder, drawing near.
The police arrived swiftly, their efficiency impressive. Lu Qingfei made her way directly to the frail old master and handed him the talisman, now restored to its original state.
“Master Liu, thank you for lending me your talisman.”
Liu Guanyun and his disciple were both surprised—she had actually returned what she’d borrowed.
Liu Guanyun accepted it and casually asked, “Which temple is the Celestial Extremity Sect from?”
He had searched every possible channel but found nothing about such a sect.
Lu Qingfei smiled faintly. “It’s not a temple. We don’t practice metaphysics.”
She might as well have said, “I’m a staunch believer in science, not superstition.”
Before Liu Guanyun could respond, a middle-aged officer called him over.
Lu Qingfei, preoccupied with her livestream, didn’t linger. She returned the talisman and took her leave.
The police arrested Mei Kaihan and conducted a thorough search of the house for other illegal artifacts.
It was a whirlwind of activity.
Spotting Wei Ze fiddling with his phone, the middle-aged officer gave him a light smack on the back of the head. “How did that task I gave you go?”
“Miss Lu didn’t want a banner. She said following her account was thanks enough.”
“Is there really such a good deal?” the officer asked suspiciously. “Are you just trying to save money and effort, not giving her the banner?”
“I swear, that’s what she said! Just follow her account!”
As the officer wavered between belief and skepticism, Wei Ze suggested, “Why don’t you follow her too?”
Liu Guanyun’s disciple perked up. “Sure.”
While the bright-eyed disciple eagerly followed the streamer, his master frowned in puzzlement.
The ominous energy in the house flickered in and out—it was truly strange.
With a somber expression, Liu Guanyun caught a glimpse of his disciple’s phone screen—the streamer’s homepage. The profile picture was a photograph of the Celestial Extremity Sect’s stone gate, and the username was “Cultivating Immortality Live from the Mortal World.”
Recalling Lu Qingfei’s words, a complex feeling welled up in Liu Guanyun’s heart.
No metaphysics, but cultivating immortality—was that it?
“Master,” his disciple said with schadenfreude, “she’s even more superstitious than we are!”
A case of the pot calling the kettle black: practitioners of metaphysics mocking cultivators.
Liu Guanyun took the phone, squinting at the words beneath the avatar. He froze.
The streamer’s personal introduction read:
A mere guest in the mortal realm, I entered the Way and found carefree joy.
*
“Master Liu, you were truly amazing this time!” Wei Ze praised, holding nothing back.
Liu Guanyun, puzzled by the compliment, shot him a sidelong glance.
Wei Ze continued, “Your disciple is extraordinary. I used to be skeptical about metaphysics, but after this, I’m a complete believer—truly convinced!”
Liu Guanyun’s disciple looked astonished and pointed at himself. “Me? Extraordinary?”
How come he didn’t know?
Wei Ze moved his hand aside. “Not you. The other disciple, Lu Qingfei.”
“Good thing Master Liu had her come ahead of time. Otherwise, Mei Kaihan would’ve fled with the artifact, and that sinister thing—Iron Man with a Tender Heart or whatever it was—was downright creepy.”
A vein pulsed on Liu Guanyun’s temple. “Sinister thing?”
“Yeah.” Wei Ze glanced around, shrugged, and said, “But it’s gone now.”
Thinking of the intermittent evil aura, Liu Guanyun’s heart skipped a beat. He kept his composure but grew more alert.
So, Lu Qingfei had used his reputation to tackle the evil presence, making Wei Ze her eyewitness and retreating unscathed.
She was truly unfathomable.
Liu Guanyun furrowed his brow, pondering for a long time before piecing things together.
The Celestial Extremity Sect was probably fabricated.
She was no formal metaphysics disciple. Her mysterious ways could only mean one thing—
A rogue cultivator dabbling in forbidden arts.
But why? She seemed so upright and talented.
Why choose a crooked path?
**
Beside Mount Lingxiao, the neighboring peak boasted better forests and water sources. For the past few months, whenever she had free time, Lu Qingfei would go there for fresh air.
She’d also collect spirit money left for the dead.
Without proper yellow talisman paper, Lu Qingfei would usually cut the spirit money into shapes and use it as a substitute. The effect was weaker, but it was free.
Dusk settled. The sun sank slowly toward the horizon, casting golden-red afterglow like molten gold over the mountain forest.
A cool evening breeze stirred the leaves, filling the air with soft rustling.
Lu Qingfei leaned against a lush, verdant tree, the red ribbon tied to her left wrist fluttering in the wind.
She raised her hand to shade her eyes and gazed toward the distant cemetery.
To be honest, her loitering here was suspiciously like that of a thief.
As the sun vanished, dusk veiled the world. Lu Qingfei made her way out.
She picked a wild blade of grass, strolling leisurely to a grave, bending to pick up spirit money.
But just as her hand reached out, a chill wind swept the spirit money away.
She tried to grab another, only for it to be whisked off again.
The cool breeze rippled her black hair and brushed against her pale cheek. Straightening, she fixed her gaze on the tangled undergrowth.
Who was the reckless soul daring to meddle?