The man sitting across from him kept drinking in gloomy silence, muttering to himself in a slurred voice.
Old Meng simply listened quietly to his story.
A boy and a girl had fallen in love, only to be forced apart because the girl's parents objected.
Not long after he left the girl behind by the river, she moved away.
They had never met again since.
It became a wound the boy carried within him.
As the boy grew up, determined to see the girl once more, he resolved to write novels, hoping to make his name ring out across the world.
This man across the table only wanted to see the girl he loved one more time.
That was all.
Old Meng picked up the wine pot beside him and poured himself a cup of Osmanthus Wine.
The clear liquor pooled in the cup.
Watching the candlelight dance in rippling waves across the wine's surface, and the man already drunk and slumped over the table, Old Meng gave a faint smile.
It was just as the man had said.
He was different from Jinta "Jintan" Yadomi, and different from Old Meng himself.
Jinta "Jintan" Yadomi had no chance left to make amends; all he could do was help Meiko "Menma" Honma recover her memories and send her on to the afterlife.
And Old Meng himself could no longer fulfill the dream of his childhood.
But this man still had a day ahead of him when he might see the girl he loved again.
At that thought, Old Meng raised his cup. Yet just as he was about to take a sip, the man across from him mumbled something in his drunken half-sleep.
"Little Nine… I miss you so much…"
At those words, the hand holding Old Meng's cup froze, then began to tremble faintly, and the wine brimming at the rim spilled across the table.
He stared wide-eyed, disbelief written all over his face.
Little… Nine?
What was the name of that little girl the Director had said she met on Wuwang Hill?
It seemed she was called Little Nine…
And that Little Nine, it seemed, had drowned…
Put that together with what this man had just said—the last time he saw Little Nine was the day he abandoned her by the river.
After that, he never saw Little Nine again.
And after that, Little Nine's whole family had hurriedly moved away…
Could it be…
It had to be…
He looked at the man before him, dead drunk—now mumbling in his sleep about how he'd broken down Fang Qiu's writing methods, now calling out Little Nine's name with a blissful smile on his face.
In his ears, the man's vow to make his name ring out across the world still echoed.
Old Meng fell silent.
He drank in silence, cup after cup.
As he drank, he watched the man before him.
He was hesitating—hesitating over whether to tell this man the cruel possibility.
To tell him that the Little Nine he spoke of was probably already dead…
After a long hesitation, he let out a long sigh.
Let it be.
Let Little Nine go on living in this man's heart.
She was the force that drove him forward; if he learned the truth, he might well fall apart completely.
That would be too cruel…
And besides, maybe it was only a coincidence that the names happened to match…
So he said nothing more, and simply drank on in silence.
Outside the window, the wind grew stronger, carrying the thin mist away into the distance.
The cold wind, wrapped around a damp haze, drifted all the way through the bustling Feiyun Slope and came to rest over Fang Qiu, who sat on the veranda of her courtyard.
The lamplight flickered.
Beneath it,
Fang Qiu, dressed in a moon-white robe patterned with clouds, held Tingyu in her arms while feeding the ornamental fish in the pond before her with a handful of fish food.
The cold wind of the winter night, laden with the mountain mist of Liyue Harbor, brushed gently against her slender frame, stirring her snow-white silver hair.
Serene and lovely.
"So cold."
Feeling the wind slip in through the gaps in her clothes, Fang Qiu's delicate body gave a small shiver.
She frowned, and her arms tightened a little more around Tingyu.
Tingyu, which had been sleeping peacefully, was squeezed by that sudden hug and woke with a start, unable to breathe.
It struggled a couple of times, and seeing that Fang Qiu's hands weren't clamping any tighter, it gave up.
It let her hold it close.
Only with Tingyu's warmth against her did Fang Qiu feel a bit warmer.
She'd been careless…
The day had warmed up quite a bit, but the night was still a little cold, wasn't it?
She should have worn more.
She set Tingyu down and stretched.
Her soft body unfolded in the faintly chilly air, and her full breasts, moving with her, pushed her robe up high.
The motion also showed off her alluring curves in exquisite detail.
After tipping the fish food from the basket into the pond, Fang Qiu rose, meaning to head back inside.
She decided to have a nice, relaxing petal bath and then a good night's sleep.
Just then, a sound came from outside the gate.
"Hm? Is that Shenhe?"
Fang Qiu tilted her head, puzzled.
Hadn't Shenhe said she was going to The Chasm, and so wouldn't be back for a few days?
Why was she suddenly home?
Had the mission been called off?
That would be for the best.
At least she wouldn't have to go to a dangerous place like The Chasm…
Come to think of it, she couldn't tell whether it was a bad habit passed down through Cloud Retainer's line, or whether Shenhe had caught it from her Senior Sister, Lady Ganyu, after going up to Yujing Terrace.
At first it was fine—she still came home every day.
Then she started staying out every few days.
By now she only came back once every several days.
Did Yujing Terrace not treat its people like people at all?
Working the women like men and the men like beasts of burden…
Sure enough, in Liyue, being a civil servant was no iron rice bowl.
Maybe she should have a word with Shenhe later, tell her not to overwork herself.
After all, people weren't machines—and even something hard as bedrock would crack in time.
You had to balance work and rest.
Her mind made up, Fang Qiu headed for the front gate. To her surprise, the little Tingyu didn't dart back inside to sleep but padded along behind her instead.
That warmed Fang Qiu's heart.
But when she was halfway there, the sound outside the gate abruptly stopped.
That left Fang Qiu a little puzzled.
"Shenhe? Shenhe, is that you?"
She opened the gate to look.
But to her confusion, there was no one outside.
A dank, cold wind swept past carrying a thin white mist, and the bushes beyond the gate rustled.
There was also the sound of paper stirring at her feet, and Fang Qiu instinctively looked down.
Only to find, lying quietly at her feet, several sheets of funeral joss paper…
The smile vanished from Fang Qiu's pretty face, and the light in her crimson eyes froze all at once, its spark gone.
The cold wind, wrapped in chilly mist, wormed its way into the gaps of her clothes, and a chill spread through her whole body, as though she'd tumbled into an ice pit.
She swallowed hard and instinctively lifted her head.
The villa district rarely saw passersby to begin with, and tonight there was not a soul around.
Still.
Silent.
Outside the gate lay a deathly stillness, frighteningly quiet, the woods ahead dark and mute.
She had seen this scenery countless times, yet now these familiar sights brought her no comfort at all—instead a thick dread welled up inside her.
Wha…
What was going on?
In an instant, the horror movies she'd long forgotten in the depths of her mind came surging back like a tide.
The faceless ghost reading a newspaper in a house with no lights on.
The moment you blinked, that faceless ghost would slide a little closer.
The murderous mother and son who liked to strangle people by wrapping them in hair and hanging them, then have the little ghost push the victim's corpse around for fun.
That is, Kayako from The Grudge in her past life, and that guy—what's-his-name-o…
Serizawa Tamao?
No…
What's-his-name-o was it?
Well, it certainly wasn't Nobita Nobi…
In her past life, when she was little.
When only she and her Big Sister were home.
Her Big Sister had tricked her, claiming it was a live-action magical-girl show, then made her watch it together at night in the room with the lights off…
By the time she realized she'd been fooled, it was too late.
The whole room was dark, and only her Big Sister was home, so all she could do was curl up beside her—not daring to close her eyes, because with them shut the eerie, sinister music grew only more terrifying.
So she'd clung to her Big Sister and watched the whole thing through to the end…
And then there was the Knocking Ghost that Hu Tao had told those children about a while back…
Wait…
The Knocking Ghost…
This situation…
It couldn't be the Knocking Ghost, could it?
At a moment like this, the instant she turned around, there'd be a horrifying, ghastly face right behind her…
Or rather…
there'd be nothing there at all…
At that thought, Fang Qiu's heart seemed to skip a beat, and her whole body began to shake beyond control. Her Vision, reacting to the surge of her emotions, burst out with an intense frigid light.
She whipped around, a cold glint flashing in her hand, and several ice swords condensed in an instant. As she turned, the swords sprang into motion, their edges tracing arcs through the air as they slashed toward the space behind her.
But there was no one behind her.
No—not a single ghost…
A chill ran through Fang Qiu. By horror-movie logic, when you turned and saw no one, it was when you turned back again that you'd see the ghost.
So she launched another attack toward the gate.
And yet again, the result was—
no ghost there…
Fang Qiu looked at Tingyu and found it staring at the nearby woods, on its guard.
Fang Qiu's heart lurched hard.
Was the ghost in there?
Without a second thought, Fang Qiu raised her hand and swept it out—an ice sword tore through the air and vanished into the woods.
Then she slammed the gate shut and, clutching Tingyu, ran all the way back to the main hall.
The protagonists in those past-life horror movies would surely have walked over to the bushes to check.
But as a progressive young woman raised on a higher education steeped in atheism, she understood full well that anyone who went forward all curious at a time like this usually didn't survive five minutes in a ghost film.
Turning tail and running was the best choice.
Only she ran too frantically, and halfway there her legs went weak and she nearly stumbled and fell.
Back in the main hall, Fang Qiu carried Tingyu all the way to the inner hall.
That was where the talisman she'd had Shenhe leave behind was kept.
This talisman could drive off evil and ward against misfortune even without being activated.
Fang Qiu's pretty face was full of terror and dread as she held Tingyu and huddled trembling among the Jumpy Dumpties.
She looked especially fragile.
Tingyu had meant to reach out a paw to comfort its timid master, but held tight in Fang Qiu's arms, the paw it stretched out could only come to rest on her ample chest.
Meanwhile, outside the residence.
Staring at the ice sword that had pierced through the skinny man's hem and buried itself deep in the earth, the two Treasure Hoarders broke into a cold sweat, nearly scared enough to wet themselves.
The skinny man swallowed hard.
His skin could feel, clear as day, the biting cold radiating off the ice sword.
That chill seemed able to pierce through skin and flesh straight to the bone.
Of course, what truly chilled him was that the sword just now had nearly taken his life…
A few days back, they had pinned down the residence of the white-haired woman who'd beaten them senseless on that snowy night.
Today, not only had the books they'd bought been extorted away by those two weirdos, but they'd also run into that fellow from the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor who meant to settle scores with them…
So, with their grievances piled up, they'd decided to go plug the white-haired woman's keyhole to vent.
To make life miserable for her, they'd gone out of their way to buy joss paper to stuff it with.
They'd even planned to paste a couple of sheets on her door.
But halfway through, to their surprise, they heard someone coming to open the gate.
After all their years in the Treasure Hoarders, they were skilled at handling a crisis.
So the moment they heard footsteps inside the gate, they quickly ducked into these bushes.
Only they hadn't expected the white-haired woman to be so terrifyingly powerful that she spotted them in an instant—and even flung an ice sword their way.
Had that ice sword been a touch more accurate, it would have killed him outright…
No—no, wait!
With that white-haired woman's power, she must have held back…
Thank goodness she was so terrifyingly strong.
The ice sword was so close to him that if she'd slipped even the slightest bit, he'd already be a dead man.
At that thought, his cold sweat poured down like rain.
You could say it was the closest brush with death in his entire career as a Treasure Hoarder…
"B-Boss, I told you—if we keep doing wrong like this, it'll be the death of us…" the fatty said, swallowing.
"Shut it. If I ever really do die one day, it'll be because you cursed me to it, brat."
The skinny man smacked the fatty across the back of the head, then grabbed at the ice sword—only to snatch his hand back the instant he touched it.
"So cold."
His face grim, the skinny man could only lean forward and, with a ripping sound, tear the hem off his clothes.
"Boss, are we still gonna go plug up her keyhole?" the fatty asked.
"Plug, my ass. She's already let us off the hook—if we don't know when to quit, that's just asking to die."
The skinny man said irritably, "Today's been rotten luck from start to finish."
"Boss, I told you long ago—do too much wrong and it'll be your undoing…" the fatty said helplessly.
"Damn it. I'll let you off this once—say that again next time and I'll beat you."
Poking his head out to check the situation, the skinny man went on viciously:
"Always spouting your little rhymes. Sooner or later you'll curse me to death—and if I die, I'll turn into a vengeful ghost and come for your life."
The words had barely left his mouth when a sinister voice sounded behind him.
"I hear you're going to become a vengeful ghost?"
At that voice, gooseflesh crawled over both Treasure Hoarders. They turned to look—and a ghost, its face deathly pale, its eyes hollow and streaming blood, was floating right behind them.
"Aaah! A ghost!"
Two shrieks tore through the silent night sky.
Hearing the faint screams drifting in from outside, Fang Qiu—curled up among the Jumpy Dumpties inside—felt her crimson pupils contract sharply, and her whole body shook even harder.
So—so there really was a ghost!
Just now she'd been wondering if she was overthinking it.
What if it was someone's prank?
But when she heard those shrill screams outside, she was certain.
There really was a ghost!
If it were a prank, there was no way anyone could scream that miserably…
What was happening to Liyue Harbor…
How could ghosts be appearing?
Could it be the Hyakkiyakou?
Or was it that, having lost the shelter of Rex Lapis's divine might, all those lonely, wandering ghosts were rising up in revolt?
Fang Qiu gripped the talisman Shenhe had left behind.
After hesitating a good while, she decided to go out and take a look.
It wasn't that she was courting death—it was just that those two screams outside tugged at her conscience…
What if some innocent passerby had run into a ghost…
She was no bleeding-heart saint, but with a talisman in hand right now, she'd save whoever she could.
With Shenhe's talisman, she should be fine.
And if something did go wrong, she could still charge out with the talisman and go find Hu Tao.
So she worked up her courage and headed outside.
Meanwhile.
Outside, within the bushes.
Watching the two Treasure Hoarders flee in blind panic, smack straight into a tree, and pass out, Hu Tao recalled the ghost with a bright, sunny smile.
The once-hideous ghost twisted for a moment, shifting into the harmless shape of a little spirit, then dissolved into nothing.
That hideous ghost had been a mimicry conjured by this little spirit of hers, all to teach these two a lesson.
After this, the pair of them probably wouldn't dare go near Fang Qiu's home again.
As for what to do with them?
Hu Tao decided to leave them be.
They were Treasure Hoarders, after all, with far tougher constitutions than ordinary folk.
A night out here in the cold wouldn't kill them.
Besides, the two of them would probably come to before long, and with the fright they'd had, the worst they'd get was a bout of illness.
She clapped her hands and walked toward the gate of Fang Qiu's home.
Meanwhile.
Fang Qiu, so tense she was trembling, had made her way into the courtyard.
Her heart was pounding wildly.
She even felt she might faint from how fast it was beating.
Honestly, she'd rather face a Lawachurl alone than run into a ghost…
Humans feared what was formless and unknown.
Compared to something tangible like a Lawachurl, a ghost was far more frightening.
She reached the front gate and let out a long breath.
Don't be afraid.
The hymn of humanity is the hymn of courage; the greatness of humanity is the greatness of courage.
Just as she summoned her courage to open the gate, a knock sounded from outside.
At the knock, Fang Qiu's outstretched hand froze.
A wave of panic surged from her chest through her whole body.
The ghost… was here!
Fang Qiu backed away several steps—but as she retreated, her legs gave out and she plopped down hard on the ground.
"Ow…"
Fang Qiu yelped in pain.
But once the yelp was out, she turned her attention back to the gate.
Outside had gone quiet.
Just as Fang Qiu hesitated, at a loss over whether to open the gate, Hu Tao's worried voice came from outside.
"Fang Qiu, what's wrong?"
Then came the sound of a key sliding into the lock, and the gate opened.
Seeing that it was Hu Tao who stepped in, Fang Qiu's suspended heart settled at last.
She had given Hu Tao a key.
"Fang Qiu, are you all right?"
Seeing her fallen, Hu Tao hurried over and helped Fang Qiu up.
But no sooner had Fang Qiu stood than she threw her arms around Hu Tao.
An armful of soft, fragrant warmth.
Feeling the softness of Fang Qiu's body and the sweet scent on her, Hu Tao's pretty face flushed red in a flash.
She reached out and hugged Fang Qiu back, drawing her into her embrace.
Their bodies pressed close together.
But soon, Hu Tao sensed something was off.
Fang Qiu's body was trembling…
And Fang Qiu's soft sobs kept reaching her ear.
Fang Qiu was crying?
Hu Tao blinked, and all the messy thoughts in her mind scattered at once.
She reached out and gently stroked Fang Qiu's back.
"Don't cry, don't cry, the Director's here." Hu Tao said softly.
After a good while, Fang Qiu finally stopped sobbing and eased back a step.
Looking at Hu Tao's tender face, Fang Qiu's cheeks grew hot too…
A little embarrassed.
She didn't quite know why just now—she'd simply wanted to hold Hu Tao and cry…
"What happened?" Hu Tao asked.
At the question, Fang Qiu remembered there was still a ghost unaccounted for and hurriedly told Hu Tao everything that had happened.
After hearing her out, Hu Tao bit back a laugh and explained it all.
Only then did Fang Qiu understand the whole story.
At once the air turned awkward.
Fang Qiu's pretty face reddened.
She wished she could be like a Dendro Slime and burrow into the covers to bury herself.
"Right, you fell just now—are you hurt? Let me see."
Hu Tao took Fang Qiu's hand and found a light scrape on it.
"It's nothing, this little scratch doesn't need any fuss, it'll heal in a couple of days," Fang Qiu said with a smile.
"No good—what if it scars?"
Hu Tao vetoed it right away. "Come on, come inside with me, I'll put some medicine on it."
"All right."
Fang Qiu, a bit reluctant, could only agree.
A bit of medicine wouldn't hurt.
Only, as Hu Tao closed the gate and Fang Qiu walked toward the house, she felt a stab of pain from her backside.
Fang Qiu realized at once.
She must have hurt it when she plopped down on the ground earlier…
But it was probably just bruised or a little red…
It should be fine.
She didn't intend to mention it to Hu Tao.
But that flicker of reaction of hers had been caught by Hu Tao.
"Fang Qiu, you didn't hurt your bottom too, did you?" Hu Tao asked with concern.
"N-no, it's nothing, just a little sore, don't worry about it." Fang Qiu shook her head, blushing and stammering.
"No, it's better to have a look."
Hu Tao shook her head, and before Fang Qiu could react, she scooped her up around the waist and carried her step by step toward the house.
Holding Fang Qiu, Hu Tao made her way to the sofa in the inner hall and set her down on it.
Fang Qiu lay face-down on the sofa, her chest pressed flat and reshaped beneath her.
Hu Tao brought over a basin of water and the medicine, cleaned Fang Qiu's wound, then dabbed on the ointment.
"Fang Qiu, hold still in a moment—let me check your bottom and see whether it needs medicine too." Hu Tao said.
"Mm." Fang Qiu answered softly, a blush blooming across her pretty face, her lovely eyes shy, not daring to turn and look at Hu Tao.
Hu Tao's own face was flushed crimson now. She swallowed lightly, then reached out and gently loosened Fang Qiu's sash, peeling away her clothes layer by layer.
Then only the last step remained.
Hu Tao gently took hold of the soft waistband, slipping her fingers between it and Fang Qiu's skin, and—careful not to touch the wound—eased it down, slow and light.
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