The Qingqiu Pavilion was located on the west side of the ancient city of Shuisheng, built along the water, exceptionally tranquil and far from the grand ceremony of worshipping the gods. The distant sound of the suona at this time seemed to come from the void, like divine music from the heavens.

Ruyi stood by the window.

This was a big city, and there should be no shortage of pleasure houses. For a moment, he didn't know if Feng Rugu's choice of this place to stay was unintentional, or because he had seen through Ruyi's disdain for the worship of gods.

When he smelled the fragrance of bamboo, he turned his head and saw Feng Rugu leaning on a soft chair, holding a smoking pipe level with his chest, studying the sheet music on the table page by page.

Ruyi laughed inwardly.

...He was indeed overthinking.

He was looking out the window at the pavilions and waterside buildings, lost in thought, when a dragonfly lightly landed on his shoulder.

Ruyi glanced to the side and saw that it was a paper dragonfly folded from sheet music, supported by a breath of bamboo, allowing it to perch on his shoulder.

Ruyi felt quite helpless about Feng Rugu's little tricks.

After the misunderstanding in the morning, Ruyi had confirmed that this Lord Yunzhong seemed to deliberately reveal details similar to his adoptive father from time to time, or make overly intimate gestures, taking pleasure in teasing him and seeing him embarrassed, indulging in amusement without any sincerity.

But the bamboo smoke with a medicinal fragrance also made Ruyi feel that this person was not simple.

He took the paper dragonfly off his shoulder, smelled the faint scent of ink, then unfolded the dragonfly and found that Feng Rugu was actually asking him a serious question: "Why are the monks of Hanshan Temple not chanting scriptures properly in the temple, but coming here instead?"

Ruyi had a grudge against his frivolousness. He turned the paper over and over again several times before confirming that he was not joking.

Not to mention anything else, Feng Rugu's handwriting was not bad-looking, but the force of his strokes on the paper was lazy and scattered, which was the kind that Ruyi's adoptive father most abhorred when teaching him calligraphy.

"...The worst handwriting is this kind, which only occupies a 'free and easy' style, lacking in both form and meaning. This is due to a weak wrist. You are a beginner, so it will be fine after more practice."

Ruyi raised his hand and lightly pressed his chest, where the letter that Chang Boning had asked him to come with was hidden.

Ten years had passed, yet it was still the same vigorous strokes, the same youthful spirit, unchanged in the slightest.

In comparison, the superiority and inferiority were clear.

Ruyi collected his thoughts, placed the unfolded "paper dragonfly" sheet music together with the letter his adoptive father had sent him, walked back to the couch, took a piece of white paper, and wrote in reply: "People in the city have appeared with a condition of losing their souls, not responding when called, not waking when summoned, like living corpses."

Since learning to write, he had secretly imitated his adoptive father's handwriting, so his strokes were too sharp for a monk.

Feng Rugu replied to him: "Not an illness?"

Ruyi wrote: "According to the report, the victims have lost one of their three ethereal souls and one of their seven corporeal souls, seemingly taken away by someone."

"What is special about those who lost their souls?"

"There are men and women, old and young. If there is anything special... it is the wealthy who have been victimized. There is nothing else unusual."

"How many people?"

"A total of nine people."

"Since this place has a tradition of worshipping gods, shouldn't it be the 'gods' here to manage it? What does it have to do with Hanshan Temple?"

"Hanshan Temple did not come to investigate. A vulgar monk from the mountain had his father fall victim, falling into a coma. His mother wrote to him to return quickly. He and a fellow monk from the temple returned to visit their families. One was killed on Mount Mizhi, and the other was abandoned on the streets of Qingjian County." ...It happened to be two of the strokes that made up the character "Feng" written in blood.

As Feng Rugu looked at the words he had written, lost in thought, he unconsciously used his thumb to lightly scratch the side of his nose, right where the mole on the tip of his nose was.

For some reason, seeing him make such a gesture, Ruyi's heart stirred slightly, and an indescribable strange feeling welled up in his heart, but he couldn't say where it came from.

As the two were facing each other in silence, there was a knock on the door.

A girl in plain clothes entered, carrying a pipa, smiling before speaking, revealing a small tiger tooth: "Sir, I am Qing Ni."

Before coming up, Feng Rugu had specifically instructed the landlady that he wanted a sweet-mouthed, cheerful, locally-born pipa girl in his room. Firstly, he could hear the most authentic local tunes, and secondly, it was convenient to gather local information.

Ruyi did not make a sound and only stood to the side, gazing at the waterside pavilion from afar, expanding his spiritual perception to search for any traces of demonic cultivators in the city.

Other people's pipa skills were always inferior to his adoptive father's, and listening to them was of no benefit.

Feng Rugu, on the other hand, was like a fish in water in such a romantic setting, praising Qing Ni's already exquisite pipa skills as if she were the reincarnation of the pipa girl from Xunyang River.

Moreover, after listening only once, he transcribed the gongche notation with rigorous rules and presented it to her for appraisal to see if there were any mistakes.

The pipa girl Qing Ni was amazed upon seeing it and immediately regarded him as a kindred spirit.

Ruyi turned his head and saw him holding the sheet music, gazing at the pipa girl, seemingly with genuine emotions in his eyes. He felt even more that his guess was correct. This person had no sincerity at all, leaving affection everywhere, always doing deliberately intimate things to please others, and should never be taken seriously.

Thinking so, he reached out and took out the unfolded paper dragonfly, carefully folding it back along the creases.

After folding it, he felt the absurdity of his own action, casually placed the paper dragonfly by the window, and paid no more attention to it.

On the other side, Feng Rugu had gradually steered the topic to the music for worshipping gods in the grand ceremony, and then to the matter of worshipping gods itself.

Feng Rugu laughed: "What kind of thing is a 'god'? I have never seen one in my life. I don't know if I will be able to catch a glimpse of its true face in a couple of days."

Qing Ni, accustomed to guests from all over, spoke with some insight, softly saying: "These 'gods', in the end, are the spiritual sustenance in people's hearts, formless and shapeless. Whatever people say they are like, that's what they are like."

She spoke eloquently: "According to legend, our place was once where the sky was torn apart in ancient times, and floodwaters poured down. Nüwa once mended the sky here. A drop of molten stone from the sky-mending stones fell on the mountain, leaving a small tear in the sky. Fortunately, although that drop of molten stone was not in its place, it also transformed into a spiritual consciousness, exerting divine power in the mountains, sealing the tear in the sky, and protecting the people here from the danger of floods. Therefore, our tradition of revering gods has a long history. There are at least a hundred temples here, and there are also five or six groups of devout believers. Since I can remember, the smell of sandalwood incense has always been in my nose. The grand ceremony of worshipping gods is when various groups of believers worship together every three years on an auspicious day."

Feng Rugu took a sip of the local specialty chrysanthemum wine: "Each group believes in its own god, but they worship on the same day. Aren't they afraid of fighting?"

Qing Ni said, "That is a thousand-year-old day of offering sacrifices to the gods, how can it be easily changed? Each family of believers will designate a location in the city in advance, not disturbing each other. For foreign guests, that night can be quite lively. In the east street there are Nuo rituals, in the west there are shaman dances, in the south city there is incense burning and stone worship, in the north market there is a city god parade, going around the city. You can see all kinds of wonders, it's very interesting."

Feng Rugu was still most concerned, "Which family has the most prosperous incense and fire? That ancient god of mending the sky with stones?"

"That's not it." Qing Ni smiled with pursed lips, "The Stone God is only worshipped by the elderly. Nowadays, the most prosperous and lively place in the city is in the center, worshipping a fairy lord who descended upon the city more than ten years ago. He eliminated the plague demon and saved the lives of half the city's people. That fairy lord is named 'Fu Yan', with the secular surname Chang."

Feng Rugu spat out a mouthful of wine he was holding.

Ruyi turned around in surprise.

With Qing Ni's words, Feng Rugu finally remembered.

He seemed to have been to this place before.

He had stayed in Fengling Mountain for too long. Things that happened twelve or thirteen years ago were like a previous life to him. He only remembered that he brought his little Hongchen here, not to eliminate any demons, but to see the lanterns.

Feng Rugu didn't remember when and where he had eliminated any plague demons. When he encountered those troublemaking demons, he simply killed them with his sword.

He only remembered the celestial lanterns and walking horse lanterns filling the streets that summer, which were truly beautiful.

Ruyi turned around and looked at the city outside the small window, his gaze a little different.

When he was young, he didn't remember place names, only knowing that wherever his adoptive father went, he would go.

His adoptive father said he would take him to a good place to see lanterns, but someone disturbed them. So his adoptive father slashed the person, wiped the blood from his sword with a silk cloth, and then held his hand to go to the lantern market.

His adoptive father said, "Paper horses and jade halls in front of the lanterns, unexpectedly spreading the story of Zhang Tai."

He also said that many people's life stories are condensed in these small walking horse lanterns, just like his master who had experienced ups and downs in the Daoist sect all his life, in the end becoming a legendary tale in the mouth of storytellers.

Ruyi remembered that under the steaming heat, the teenager's face was red and bright. Watching the stories in the lanterns, the faint light flickering in his eyes was extremely vivid.

And Ruyi, looking past the constantly rotating lanterns at the usually flamboyant teenager's gentle expression, was also in a daze.

Qing Ni saw the two's strange reactions and couldn't help but be surprised, "...What's wrong? Did I say something wrong?"

Feng Rugu adjusted quickly, took out a handkerchief to wipe the table, and said apologetically, "No, no, it's just that the name 'Fu Yan' sounds funny, like 'perfunctory'."

Qing Ni covered her mouth and laughed, "Young master, you really are interesting. That fairy lord is a handsome figure, and he has the merit of eliminating the plague demon. The people in the city seek marriage and avoiding plagues from him, and it's quite effective."

Feng Rugu lowered his head to wipe the table, torn between laughter and tears.

At that time, because the whole city had closed its doors and the originally scheduled fifteenth lantern festival was not held, he was really too angry. So he found the whereabouts of the plague demon, killed it with one sword stroke, cutting off the source of the plague. He took the plague demon's head and asked if the lantern festival could be held as scheduled.

Some grateful citizens came to ask his name, saying they wanted to make offerings to repay his virtuous deeds.

Feng Rugu falsely claimed to be his senior brother descending the mountain. Seeing everyone's reaction, he had a direct feeling that he had done something a bit too big this time. He was also bringing a child and was afraid of attracting trouble he shouldn't. So when the people asked the fairy lord's name, he said, "Can't say, can't say. Secular surname is just Chang."

As a result, after being passed around, it actually turned into "Fairy Lord Fu Yan".

From this, it can be seen that the people's ability to beautify the gods in their hearts is truly first-class.

The topic of gods was just an interlude. Qing Ni and Feng Rugu continued to discuss music scores until it was almost dark. Qing Ni reluctantly covered the door and left, happening to meet Lu Xin who came out of the next room hugging a zither.

Lu Xin always loved to tease young guests, having to make them blush and their ears turn red. This was also the zither girl that the Feng young master next door specifically instructed to serve his two young disciples, obviously with the intention to tease them.

But at this time, Lu Xin's face was flushed, giggling non-stop, making Qing Ni very surprised.

She asked, "Little Xin, what's wrong with you?"

Lu Xin shook her head, pointed to the room door that had just closed, and whispered in Qing Ni's ear.

Inside the room, seeing that the zither girl had left, Luo Fuchun let out a sigh of relief and said, "Junior Brother, what did you say to her earlier? She was really quiet in the second half."

Sang Luojiu stood by the window like Ruyi, looking out, "I said, if you look at my senior brother any more, I will be angry."

Luo Fuchun clapped his hands, "Ha, Junior Brother is still smart. No wonder she kept looking at you afterwards, she must like you and doesn't want to make you angry."

Sang Luojiu looked at him affectionately, then turned his gaze to the window and muttered softly, "...Silly."

Ruyi, separated from him by a wall, confirmed the same thing as Sang Luojiu.

He wrote on the paper, "There is no demonic aura in the city. None within a fifty-mile radius either."

Unlike Ruyi's experience in his childhood, there were no fake gods impersonating here, and no demonic aura. Instead, it was filled with a pure and sacred atmosphere.

Although it was impossible to guarantee whether there were demon cultivators deliberately concealing their aura, or if the demon was temporarily not in this place, based on the current situation, this place was completely a scene of peace and prosperity.

Feng Rugu propped his head up, exhaled a mouthful of bamboo mist, and said leisurely, "Tomorrow we will visit the victims again. Tonight, let's take a stroll around the city first."