Early that morning, Ling Wu woke to a commotion—not the spirit bird, more like a handful of voices.
Tossing and turning proved useless, so she sat bolt upright, threw on her things, and headed for the noise.
She would see for herself who dared disturb her sweet dreams!
As she drew near, she made out the voices of several senior brothers.
“Sixth Junior Brother really took that blow for nothing this time. He could have dodged it—no idea what he was standing there daydreaming about.”
“Perhaps the creature's sorcery addled his mind.”
“I doubt it. That demon's arts are feeble—its strikes come half a beat slower than anyone's. A bottom-feeder, plainly.”
“True. Even our Little Junior Sister can't land a blow on him. If she ever hears Sixth Junior Brother was badly wounded by some lowly demon, she'll laugh herself sick.”
And there it was—about her too? Ling Wu's ears perked up.
“Next time, let Little Junior Sister catch it. A bottom-feeder demon for a bottom-feeder Daoist.”
What did he just say! Mocking the demon was one thing—why drag her into it!
That scoundrel Fengqi! Not a decent word in his whole mouth!
Fury boiled up in her—she could hardly stand it!
She took several deep breaths, smothered the fire, and strolled into view wearing her best passing-by face, greeting each of them in turn: “Morning, Second Senior Brother! Morning, Third Senior Brother! Morning, Fifth Senior Brother! To see you the moment I wake—your junior sister's heart rejoices!”
The brothers jumped at her sudden appearance. Fengqi most of all.
“Little Junior Sister, you're not a ghost, are you? Walking without a sound—if it weren't broad daylight, you'd have scared me into an early grave!” Fengqi struck first.
Ling Wu rolled her eyes: “A clear conscience fears no midnight knock. Funny—Second Senior Brother never used to be this afraid of me.”
Just you wait, Fengqi. She'd go home and draw a talisman to curse him with nightmares every night!
“Little Junior Sister is so amusing.” Fengqi's expression was pained, a man caught mid-mischief.
She sniffed and steered straight for what interested her: “What wind blew you all back to Kunlun today? Did something happen? Or is some senior brother unwell?”
The brothers traded looks, all of them crystal clear inside.
This Little Junior Sister claimed she'd just woken up—and had eavesdropped on the entire conversation.
In the end it was Fengqi who spoke first: “Sixth Junior Brother was wounded by a demon in the mortal realm yesterday. The injury is rather serious. We ran into him by chance and brought him home.”
Ling Wu had of course known Sixth Senior Brother was hurt. What she wanted to know was: which righteous demon had avenged her grievance for her?
“What did the creature look like? Male or female? How old? Married?”
The corners of Fengqi's mouth twitched violently. What manner of questions were these?
It was Qi'an who caught the wrongness of it: “Little Junior Sister—are you concerned for Sixth Junior Brother, or do you want him dead?”
“Third Senior Brother, how unkind! As his junior sister, of course I'm concerned. You don't understand—every one of my questions serves a great purpose!”
“What did it look like?” Qi'an asked, line by line.
Ling Wu: “Establish the appearance, and we'll know whether Sixth Senior Brother was bewitched.”
Qi'an: “Male or female?”
Ling Wu: “The sole reliable test of whether Sixth Senior Brother is a man of normal tastes.”
Qi'an: “And age and marital status?”
“If it's a young, beautiful female demon, and unmarried—then Six Senior Brother's calamity has arrived!” Ling Wu clapped her hands and leaned in, the picture of seriousness. “You all said his wound was strange. The creature's power was beneath his, yet he still took a heavy blow. What does that mean? It means he's fallen in love! He couldn't bear to hurt her—he'd rather be gravely wounded than strike her!”
She found her logic impeccable. By years of storybook experience, Sixth Senior Brother was surely in love with the demon.
By the time she finished, every mouth and every face at the gathering was twitching.
This Little Junior Sister's mind truly ran on wondrous rails.
Qi'an patted her head gently, fondness and despair mingled: “Little Junior Sister, when you have a moment, eat more brain-nourishing immortal medicine. If Songhe ever hears you say that, no one on this mountain can save you.”
“She's right, Little Junior Sister—Sixth Junior Brother cultivates the Path of Heartlessness. Who could ever catch his eye?” Fifth Senior Brother chimed in.
An immortal of the Heartless Path falling for a feeble little demon. Where did she get these ideas!
“So what! Since ancient times, plenty of people have abandoned the Heartless Path for love. Who's to say Sixth Senior Brother won't be one of them?” Ling Wu held her ground.
Fengqi eyed her sidelong, tone noncommittal: “The day that happens, this senior brother drops dead on the spot.”
Look at that—cursing himself for Sixth Senior Brother's sake.
Ling Wu clucked her tongue and shook her head, thinking the one who ought to drop dead was Six.
At last she closed the topic by declaring she'd go pay Songhe a sickbed visit.
On the way to Sixth Senior Brother's quarters she strolled at leisure, in spirits so high she hummed a little tune, satisfied with everything her eyes fell on.
Why? Because Songhe had squeezed her dry for years, and now the great grievance had been avenged by proxy. She was delighted.
Delight breeds absent-mindedness. She came back to herself to find she'd nearly walked past.
She backtracked a few steps and planted herself before Songhe's quarters.
Before she even entered the courtyard, the smell of medicine reached her; a few steps closer, and the smell of blood drifted in under it.
She pushed the door open, expecting Sixth Senior Brother pale and bedridden—or breathing out more than in. Instead the scoundrel sat jauntily on the edge of his bed, gazing into the distance, the very portrait of melancholy.
What now? A beating from a bottom-feeder demon wasn't enough to shake him, and he had to brood on top of it?
And hadn't they said he was gravely wounded? Then lie down and show your weakness like a proper invalid! What was the sitting for!
Denied the scene she'd hoped for, Ling Wu felt a touch gloomy herself.
Songhe noticed her quickly, gave her a lukewarm glance, and said coolly: “What brings Little Junior Sister to my door?”
Ling Wu was candid: “To see whether Sixth Senior Brother was dead yet.”
The moment it left her mouth, Songhe's face went still—then his eyes narrowed on her, brimming with danger.
“Say that again, Little Junior Sister.”
As if she dared. Courage was a nonrenewable resource.
Her practiced smile snapped into place and she backpedaled at speed: “Aiya—Sixth Senior Brother, did you truly think your junior sister would say something so heartless and heaven-defying? Just joking! The moment I heard you were hurt, I rushed straight over to pay my respects. Only—however did you get wounded, Senior Brother?”
Some things, she still wanted to hear him admit with his own mouth.
Songhe shot her another cool glance: “Little Junior Sister knows herself well. But heartless and heaven-defying aren't enough. This senior brother would add two more—black-hearted and beyond forgiveness.”
Ling Wu: “?”
Unbelievable. This invalid cursed with real venom. Why hadn't that demon shredded his tongue while it was at it!
After a spell of impotent rage, she talked herself down: don't stoop to a scoundrel's level; she was a magnanimous person. After ascension she'd meet plenty more immortals like Sixth Senior Brother—call this training in composure.
Thought that way, she felt much better.
“Why so quiet, Little Junior Sister? Do you concur with your senior brother's assessment?” Songhe poured oil on the fire, looking ready to debate the matter at length.
Ling Wu laughed lightly and wagged her head: “We grew up together, Senior Brother, and your junior sister thinks those words suit you just as well. She was puzzling over how a little demon could wound you—then it came to her. You've slandered her too long; even the Way of Heaven couldn't watch anymore, so it sent a small demon to sort you out! Tsk tsk tsk. One day, if that little demon actually finishes you off, it will count as justice on Heaven's behalf!”
Done, she exhaled a long, turbid breath.
Sixth Senior Brother didn't deserve death, but on the lips, she couldn't let him off easy.
Yet Songhe showed no reaction at all to her words—his gaze had drifted off again, to someone she couldn't guess.
“Justice on Heaven's behalf...” he murmured, lids lowering, his expression unreadable.
Ling Wu found it dull, flicked her sleeve, and left.
She didn't see that after she was gone, Songhe drew out that knotted button again.