Chapter Fifty-Seven: The Array Disk

“Great Immortal, are you perhaps displeased because Qingli is merely a humble tree spirit? Oh, woe is me~”
Watching this little female demon cover her face and weep, still only a few hundred years old, I wondered why I should quarrel with such a young sapling.
“Well then, all right~”
No sooner had Jiang Lan spoken than the little demon lifted her head, a radiant smile blooming upon her face, all trace of tears vanished. Indeed, the storybooks never lie!
Having gotten her wish, the little demon wasted no time. Before Jiang Lan could say more, she sprang to her feet. With a single step, the green leaves atop her head disappeared, restoring her beauty as when they first met. Her clothes had changed to those of a maidservant, transforming her former seductive charm into a lively, innocent demeanor—much more obedient and clever.
Now she attended Jiang Lan with utmost discipline, following closely behind, utterly different from her previous aggressive stance.
Sanmu, deeply captivated by the array formation, had resolved to become the favored confidant before the young lord Jiang—without equal!
Upon seeing the demon girl vying for favor, Sanmu was astounded, inwardly cursing: This wretched thing dares to compete with me for my livelihood!
“Young lord, have a fruit!”
After arranging the formation, Sanmu rushed to Jiang Lan and launched a fierce assault, showering him with concern and flattery, even casting a provocative glance at Qingli.
“Great Immortal, please enjoy some morning dew!”
Jiang Lan naturally accepted the fruit with his left hand and the cup with his right, paying no mind to the rivalry between the two. He drained the dew in one gulp, returned the cup to Qingli, and slipped the fruit into his sleeve.
Pointing to the woman who had been unconscious beneath the tree, Jiang Lan turned to Qingli, “What’s her story?”
Qingli respectfully saluted Jiang Lan and bowed her head. “Answering the Great Immortal: this young lady is Yue’er, a well-known courtesan at First-Class Pavilion. She’s not the principal flower, but many talented scholars and wealthy merchants admire her.
Yue’er is a gifted and refined entertainer, who pledged herself to a young gentleman from a family fallen on hard times. They hoped to save enough silver to buy her freedom so she could escape that cage.
But that scoundrel, Xue Dafu, a servant of the Duke of Wei’s household, beat the young man until he coughed blood, leaving him bedridden and gravely ill. Before long, he passed away.
Xue Dafu then seized Yue’er, bought her outright, and took her deed of sale, treating her as less than human, subjecting her to brutal violence at every turn. Her body bore fresh wounds daily. He boasted of his cruelty, humiliating her in front of his underlings...
Yue’er once attempted suicide by hanging herself under the tree. I knew her plight and so lent her aid.”
Jiang Lan’s eyes narrowed. “Have you seen this item?”
He drew a jade pendant from his robes; at once, Buddhist light flared, and Qingli shielded herself with her sleeve, as if scorched by fire, writhing and crying out in agony.
Seeing this, Jiang Lan quickly put away the pendant.
Qingli was drenched in sweat, as if hauled from water.
Feeling pity, Jiang Lan turned to Sanmu and gave him a look.
“Ah,” Sanmu grumbled, reluctant. Just a little tree spirit, yet the young lord cherishes her—truly, even one as wise as the young lord falls prey to base desires.
Despite his reluctance, Sanmu fetched a bottle of Vitality Pills from his sack, handed it to the demon girl with a pout.
“One pill every half hour.”
Qingli managed a smile. “Thank you, Daoist.”
Sanmu smacked his lips, uninterested in her beauty, and held out his hand with pride, “No need for thanks. Fair price: ten taels of gold.”
“...”
Jiang Lan rolled his eyes. He had thought Sanmu possessed, but now saw he remained as greedy as ever, indifferent to beauty.
Sanmu collected the gold with satisfaction, and Qingli took a pill to restore her energy.

Hearing a commotion outside the courtyard, Jiang Lan pulled the two up onto the roof.
They saw several constables rushing over with torches.
“What was that sound? Damn, it was terrifying.”
“This place reeks of demon aura—wind howls, too. Don't tell me there really are monsters here?”
“Bullshit, someone must be playing tricks!”
...
Jiang Lan watched the group below, torches in hand, swords at their sides, backs pressed together as they entered the flower garden, chattering nervously. A plan formed in his mind.
He called Qingli to his side, whispered a few words in her ear.
Sanmu, nearby, seethed with jealousy, his heart raging like a torrent: You little wretch, daring to steal my master!
Qingli disappeared in a swirl of green smoke, and Jiang Lan looked in confusion at Sanmu, who was grinding his teeth audibly, unsure what was happening.
The flower garden was lively; Jiang Lan observed closely.
“Brother Cai, there seems to be a girl over there!” cried one of the guards. Everyone looked, and sure enough, a girl lay on the ground beside a toppled lantern.
“Let’s go see.” The constable named Cai led the way, his brothers crowding behind, afraid to be left alone in a house where people had died—such places were notorious for ghostly happenings.
“Miss, miss, wake up.”
Checking her breath, they found she lived, and the leader tried to rouse her. Behind him, a guard piped up.
“Hey? Isn’t this the little concubine of the late Xue Dafu? She was in the room earlier today!”
Excited, he squeezed forward for a closer look.
But his foot slipped, and he fell, tearing a piece of her sleeve.
The constables’ faces darkened—not at his clumsiness, but at the horrifying wounds revealed on her pale arm: whip marks, brands...
Even men accustomed to criminal investigations gasped in shock.
“How does she have so many injuries? Old and new, never-ending.”
The others nodded in agreement.
Constable Cai called out several times, but the woman did not wake. Hearing his brothers’ puzzled remarks, he spoke.
“That Xue Dafu was infamous for bullying and evil deeds, ruining countless women. This favored concubine must have suffered the same.”
“Ah~”
Several young men among the constables, still unmarried, were indignant, cheeks puffed with fury.
“Damn it! What kind of scum is he? I’m over twenty and never held a woman’s hand, yet that old fat man abused young ladies so terribly. I wish I could hack his corpse to pieces!”
“Exactly! Infuriating! How could such an old man be so vicious, deceiving superiors and oppressing locals? Even in death, he dragged his masters into prison.”
“If you ask me, that young lord deserves it. He may have saved her today, but if he hadn’t been blind and negligent, this villain wouldn’t have harmed so many people!”
“Right, well said! Absolutely!”
(Sanmu, crouched on the eaves with the party involved, wiped sweat from his brow.)
Constable Cai picked up Yue’er and said, “A human life is at stake; let’s leave and find a doctor for her.”
“Yes, the leader is right!”

The constable who had accidentally torn her sleeve carefully picked up the lantern. Suddenly, a chill wind snuffed out its candle with a crack.
Half of their torches went out as well, and everyone’s hearts leaped into their throats.
Night’s coolness swept over them, as if something brushed their exposed skin, sending shivers through their bodies.
“Brother Cai, isn't this place haunted?” stammered one, teeth chattering.
“Nonsense, there are no ghosts!”
Constable Cai had barely finished speaking when eerie sobbing sounded, chilling to the bone.
“Bro-brother, this doesn’t seem like a trick.”
They huddled together for warmth and courage.
The sobbing grew closer, and closer...
More than one woman was crying!
“Bro-brother, I’m scared!”
Now no one answered him. Cai Ming stared wide-eyed at the white shapes approaching.
“Weep, weep~ I died so tragically~”
“Brother!” “Leader!” “Brother Cai!”
“I’ll kill you, kill you, kill you, Xue Dafu! You killed me and buried me underground—I'm so cold~ Weep, weep~”
The voices surrounded them, the white shadows numbering in the hundreds, pressing in. Cai Ming and his men were trapped in a frenzy of hatred and despair, forced to endure the emotions and painful memories conjured by the voices, lost in confusion.
Jiang Lan and Sanmu returned to the ground, Qingli reappeared.
Her bright smile sought praise from Jiang Lan. “Great Immortal, did Qingli do well?”
Jiang Lan nodded, generous with his approval.
Sanmu eyed the affected constables, puzzled. “What’s wrong with them?”
Jiang Lan smiled slightly, offering no explanation. Qingli was proud, especially in front of the annoying Daoist—after all, he had just extorted gold from her.
She was a demon, but not a wealthy one. Opportunist! Clearly not a good sort!
Sanmu felt that bold gaze and glared back, refusing to yield.
Jiang Lan ignored the two, observing the confusion below. He was about to have Qingli lift the spell when he sensed powerful Daoist energy approaching swiftly.
“This is bad. Let’s go!”
Sanmu and Qingli were startled. Sanmu quickly packed his things, while Qingli hesitated—her true form was here!
“Great Immortal, what about me?”
Jiang Lan frowned, took the sachet from his waist, and without a word to Sanmu, stuffed both him and Qingli inside. Then Jiang Lan approached the tree, rolled up his sleeves, and with a mighty pull, yanked out a glowing, verdant sapling from the earth, tucking it into the magic pouch.
He vaulted the wall, applied talismans for speed and concealment, and escaped.
Not long after Jiang Lan left, a white-robed Daoist elder descended from the sky.
“Oh? They’ve escaped. Interesting, very interesting!”