Chapter Forty: Arson

“This thing is truly sinister. If it gets out of hand, we’ll have to seal it away again.” Staring at the jade Buddha in the corner, shrouded beneath a white cloth, Qi Xiu recalled the first time he had seen this demonic artifact.

That eerie, chilling smile on the jade Buddha’s face—

He remembered it vividly, even now.

Better safe than sorry, he thought, his gaze withdrawing. Qi Xiu decided to begin the process of resealing the artifact tomorrow, lest anything untoward happened.

There was nothing of real substance left in the remaining scrolls. Qi Xiu flipped through them absentmindedly and stuffed them back into the chest, planning to take them all to the ghost market for a clearance sale whenever he found the time.

He hefted the scrolls and had barely taken two steps when a scroll slipped from his grasp and fell with a clack to the ground. The wooden spindle split clean in two.

Qi Xiu glanced back at the scroll on the floor, not paying it much mind—until something struck him.

“Huh?”

He blinked in surprise at the broken spindle.

Inside the split wood, something seemed to be hidden.

“A secret stash?”

Tossing the books back into the chest, Qi Xiu bent down and picked up the broken spindle, gently prying it open.

Sure enough, a rolled slip of paper was concealed inside.

“May fifteenth, Stone Ox Valley, payment upon delivery.”

Was this... a delivery note?

Qi Xiu turned the slip over and over in his hands, perplexed. Apart from those twelve characters, there was nothing else written.

“May fifteenth, just over two months from now. But payment upon delivery—for what goods, and how much payment? Stone Ox Valley is right next to Muze County, not far at all.”

Qi Xiu’s eyes flickered as he stared at the note.

This delivery slip must have belonged to that now-dead demon cultivator, Wu Changqing.

But why go to such lengths to hide a mere delivery slip? Concealed so secretly—he clearly didn’t want anyone else to know.

As the head of Rainflower Monastery, Wu Changqing was the boss—who could he have been afraid of?

A single slip of paper stirred countless questions in Qi Xiu’s mind.

“Forget it. Whatever.”

That demon cultivator’s heart was never in the right place. Whatever he bought with such caution and secrecy, it couldn’t be anything proper.

Qi Xiu crumpled the note into a ball and tossed it into a corner. He threw all the remaining odds and ends into the chest as well.

With dusk falling fast, Qi Xiu dove into the kitchen. After a day of reading, he was eager to treat himself to a good meal.

In the kitchen, the stove blazed and the sound of pots and pans clanged brightly.

Meanwhile, in the empty main hall—

A sudden gust of wind swirled into the house, tugging the white cloth off the jade Buddha.

The jade Buddha, hands pressed in prayer, wore a face of serene compassion, its surface smooth as glass.

Ding-ling—

The corpse-controlling bell beneath the Buddha’s feet chimed softly without warning.

In the next instant, a tall, expressionless figure emerged slowly from the shadows.

Summoned forth, the corpse-child moved without hesitation, heading straight for the center table.

There rested the hundred-faced mask and... the autumn sandalwood cane.

The corpse-child reached the table and stretched out a hand to seize the cane, but just then a rapid clanging of a gong erupted from outside.

“What’s going on?”

Qi Xiu, puzzled, stepped out of the kitchen. Hearing the frantic banging from outside, he glanced at the main hall.

Everything seemed as usual, except the cloth over the jade Buddha had been blown off.

“Fire! Fire!”

Hearing the shouts outside, Qi Xiu frowned. He quickly returned to the hall, grabbed the hundred-faced mask, tucked the sandalwood cane at his waist, and in a flash transformed into a burly man dressed in black. With a leap, he vaulted onto the roof.

After Qi Xiu left, the vanished corpse-child reemerged from the shadows, gazing at the now-empty table in long silence.

...

“Quick, put out the fire! Hurry!”

“Help! There’s a blaze—everyone up!”

“Mother, I’m scared!”

“Damn it, who the hell set this fire? When I catch him, I’ll skin him alive!”

A peaceful night’s sleep was shattered for the people of Baohua County as the sudden outbreak of fire invaded their dreams.

In all four quarters of the county—east, west, south, and north—dozens of fires had erupted all at once.

Some fires were small, claiming only a room or two. But in the south, where the blaze was fiercest, almost an entire street’s row of shops was engulfed, flames towering like columns, staining half the sky a vivid red.

Even the county yamen was not spared.

So many fires breaking out at once—this was no accident. Someone had deliberately set them.

Standing atop the tallest tower in North Market, Qi Xiu surveyed the city, ringed by great and small blazes.

Had a madman entered the city?

Arson after arson, even the yamen was targeted—utterly brazen.

The night wind howled. Tonight, the gale was especially strong, feeding the flames. Small fires became great conflagrations, which then raged outward in all directions.

As Qi Xiu watched the city burn, he couldn’t help but think of the countless families who would lose everything tonight. Suddenly, he spotted a furtive figure darting into an alley at breakneck speed.

In the next instant, a house was engulfed in fire.

The arsonist, having set the blaze, dashed out and sped toward another target.

“Still going?”

Seeing the arsonist continue his rampage, Qi Xiu arched a brow, bent his knees, gathered his energy, and shot toward the madman like an arrow.

Not out of heroism, but because the arsonist was now heading toward his own house.

“Stop right there!”

The thought of the twenty thousand taels of silver notes stashed in his house twisted Qi Xiu’s face in rage. That was his entire fortune—if this man torched it, Qi Xiu would be beside himself with grief.

Hearing the shout behind him, the arsonist looked back in terror.

He’d been spotted!

Damn!

A martial artist!

Noticing the aura swirling around Qi Xiu’s legs, the arsonist picked up speed, lobbing several bottles behind him in an attempt to distract his pursuer.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

More houses were swallowed by flames.

“You bastard! Doing this on purpose, are you?”

As the arsonist quickened his pace, setting fires even more frequently, Qi Xiu realized his home might not escape. He drew the sandalwood cane from his waist.

Can’t hit the head—he might die. Need to hand him over to the authorities.

The body’s no good either—go for the lower leg.

Gripping the cane, Qi Xiu narrowed his eyes and gave a light swing.

Hiss—

A crimson sword-light, as long as an arm, cleaved through the air with terrifying speed, like a scarlet mist, and slashed across the arsonist’s calf.

Bone parted from flesh as easily as slicing tofu.

The sword-light was unimaginably sharp. In an instant, the arsonist was left a cripple.

What’s more, the demonic power imbued in the strike began to warp the blood in his veins, threatening to make him explode from within.

Qi Xiu rushed over, slapped a talisman marked “Suppress” onto the wound, and the corrupted blood immediately stabilized.

Watching the arsonist clutching his leg and howling in agony, Qi Xiu let out a breath.

“Setting the whole city ablaze—your nerve is something else. The yamen will surely reward you with a one-way ticket to the underworld.”

Crouching before the man, Qi Xiu noted that he, too, was dressed in black, his face masked. Qi Xiu reached out and ripped the cloth from his face.

“Some nerve, dressing just like me.”

But when Qi Xiu saw the arsonist’s true face, his eyes widened in shock.

“Head Constable Liu?”

The madman lying on the ground, wailing in pain, who had set dozens of fires across the city—

He was none other than Liu Changfeng, the ninth-rank, black-robed head constable of Baohua County’s yamen.

Qi Xiu’s brow furrowed deeply as he looked back at the ever-growing flames behind him, his gaze heavy.

Clearly, this was no ordinary case of arson.

...