Incense offerings

Once the little dragon realized what had happened, it darted back into the kitchen in a fit of impotent rage and climbed up onto Ji Ningzhao’s shoulder again. But Ji Ningzhao, busy washing vegetables, failed to notice the little dragon’s indignation.

So the little dragon could only glare furiously at Ruan Qing, only to be flicked over in the air by Ruan Qing with a deft motion.

Had this been Ying Zhongyun’s true form, Ruan Qing naturally would not have stood a chance. However, the little dragon was merely a fragment of Ying Zhongyun’s soul, not yet fully sentient, and currently no match for a blue luan who had matured for several millennia.

But this time, Ruan Qing’s flick was caught by Ji Ningzhao, who, half-amused and half-exasperated, scooped the dizzy little dragon into her arms and said, “Why are you being so childish? Why bully it?”

Ruan Qing snorted twice. Unable to do anything about Ying Zhongyun, she could only take the opportunity to tease the powerless soul fragment.

Yet Ruan Qing understood better than anyone the tangled feelings Ji Ningzhao harbored for Ying Zhongyun, so she let the matter drop.

Though Ruan Qing still had feelings for Ji Ningzhao, Ji Ningzhao had made it clear long ago that between them, there was only friendship.

Ji Ningzhao always believed that one must take responsibility for one’s own heart. She and Ruan Qing maintained the boundaries of friendship, but she had never tried to persuade Ruan Qing to let go.

If, one day, Ruan Qing fell for someone else, Ji Ningzhao would sincerely offer her blessing as a friend—but before that, offering excessive, magnanimous advice would only show a lack of respect for Ruan Qing’s emotions.

Ruan Qing had been an adult for nearly several thousand years and didn’t need anyone to guide her heart.

Ruan Qing accepted, with an open heart, the feelings and mutual devotion between Ji Ningzhao and Ying Zhongyun. She respected Ji Ningzhao’s wishes, yet did not immediately relinquish her own feelings.

Still, after so many years of forthright companionship, the two had become more than ordinary friends; there was a depth of understanding between them that surpassed mere friendship.

Nestled against the spot on Ji Ningzhao’s chest where her scales lay hidden, the little dragon finally quieted, soon drifting off to sleep.

Zhong Yanbei had no need for food, but occasionally dining with friends was something he found enjoyable.

After their meal, Ji Ningzhao casually mentioned the girl she’d encountered that day, the one entangled with the ghostly peach blossom. Zhong Yanbei showed little interest, while Ruan Qing merely raised an eyebrow and remarked, “Most of these matters are unresolved bonds from past lives. They rarely turn into serious trouble.”

Ghostly peach blossoms did drain some of the living’s vital energy, leaving their victims fatigued and listless. Still, most weren’t powerful enough to lure someone to seek them out in person. So long as it didn’t reach that point, nothing much would happen.

Ji Ningzhao had only brought it up in passing; after all, not every problem in the world was hers to solve.

After chatting a while longer, Ruan Qing and Zhong Yanbei, not wishing to disturb Ji Ningzhao’s rest, stood up to take their leave.

Before departing, Zhong Yanbei made a point of checking the memorial tablet in the small room. Finding nothing amiss, he comforted Ji Ningzhao, “The soul fragment has already awakened; that proves the method worked. There’s no need to worry too much.”

Ji Ningzhao nodded silently. As Zhong Yanbei said, any change was better than none—at least the soul fragment had awakened.

After seeing her friends off and finishing her nightly routine, Ji Ningzhao sat on the bed, feeling somewhat uneasy.

Her spiritual intuition was strong; even without divination, she often had vivid premonitions about many things.

After overhearing the conversation between the two girls earlier, her heart had been restless, a sense of impending storm lingering around her.

Ji Ningzhao pondered their conversation, troubled by a particular point.

What exactly was that girl suggesting her friend try? If one was not initiated in the occult, there were very few ways to communicate with a ghostly peach blossom.

Most likely, it would be through those rituals circulating online, but such crude rites couldn’t establish precise contact with specific spirits.

Yet, according to the girl, she dreamt of exactly whom she wished for, which couldn’t have resulted from a rough ritual.

That left the possibility that some amateur, half-trained practitioner had played matchmaker, which would complicate things.

When the karmic ties of a past life remain unresolved, and one party, having reincarnated, is now human, the boundaries between the living and the dead become blurred. If the connection is not severed, tragedy could result.

But if it were only that, Ji Ningzhao wouldn’t have been so unsettled. Affairs of the occult in Hang City were supervised by the Special Division and had little to do with her.

Still, her intuition told her this matter would not be simple. In fact, she felt a subtle connection between it and the Chen family case, which had supposedly been resolved. She couldn’t help but dwell on it.

Turning the oddities over in her mind, Ji Ningzhao felt a headache coming on.

When only the faintest shadow of a matter appears, even the strongest intuition cannot unravel the full thread. Though it felt passive, most of the time, one could only wait for events to unfold before finding a solution.

Lying in bed, Ji Ningzhao sighed and set the matter aside for now.

As it turned out, her intuition had never failed her.

The next morning, she was awakened by a phone call from Xie Qingfa.

Since taking a monumental secret from Ji Ningzhao last time, Xie Qingfa, knowing she valued her peace, had not disturbed her again. He was a man of tact and discretion.

“Ningzhao, sorry to bother you,” Xie Qingfa’s voice was weary over the phone.

Ji Ningzhao sat up in bed; her voice was hoarse but her tone steady. “What’s happened?”

Xie Qingfa sighed. “Something’s come up. It’s hard to explain over the phone. I’m at the Special Division now, and honestly, I can’t think of anyone else who could help.”

Ji Ningzhao’s gaze sharpened. The Hang City Special Division might not be as formidable as the one in the capital, but with its transient population and the steady comings and goings of occult practitioners, there had rarely been major incidents over the years—except for the time with Chi Chaoxi. Clearly, the Special Division was not a collection of incompetents.

Since Xie Qingfa was calling her from the Special Division, the matter must indeed be thorny.

Ji Ningzhao’s guess was correct. For Xie Qingfa, if his own master were available, he would never have made this call.

But both the Special Division and he himself were at a loss, and the local occult elders were either traveling or in seclusion. When he thought it over, only Ji Ningzhao remained to consult.

“The east suburbs. There was a homicide there yesterday,” Xie Qingfa said after a cough. “The case was handed to the Special Division, and at the scene, they detected the scent of incense.”

Qingning Mountain and the Special Division had always been on good terms, so after the field agents reported in, the first team invited Xie Qingfa to inspect the scene as well.

“It’s just like the Kong family incident: every trace of the supernatural in the entire building is gone, cleaner even than the entrance to our own temple. And there’s a strong scent of incense—almost as if…”

“As if an underworld envoy had come and taken her soul.”