He had a personal name.

He was the only son of the Marquis of Yongning, born on the ninth day of the third month in the ninth year of Taiming, on an evening when gentle spring rain was falling.

Wan’s customs had been delicate since ancient times. They preferred refined and gentle men—intellectuals of the sort too frail for the weight of their clothes. Family and friends came to congratulate them, all bringing along pretty-sounding words, saying that this was a “a little gentleman delivered by the apricot blossom rain,” and in the future he was sure to be a romantic person, “graceful as a pine tree, bright as the moon.”

The Marquis even kept his breathing soft. He exerted a great deal of will power to control any other thoughts and, according to what he and his wife had discussed in advance, gave him the name “Ping.”

Later, the apricot blossom rain concerned had cried out against the false accusation. Old Madam Xi claimed that it repeatedly came to her in dreams to defend itself, saying that this fiend hadn’t been delivered by the misty rain but instead had been formed of the ooze in the courtyard that had yet to be cleaned up.

After the old lady died, no one could know whether such a thing had in fact taken place.

It was hard to say whether this child was a “natural disaster” or a “manmade catastrophe”—less than half a year after he was born, he had driven two wet-nurses in a row to high blood pressure and made them resign their posts and go home. Madam Cui and Old Madam Xi each lost seven or eight jin, and the Marquis didn’t dare to have heart problems for three years.

It was said that when this little master began to crawl, it was as if he were flying a sword stuck to the ground; even dogs couldn’t keep up. And once he learned to walk, he turned into a cannon on legs. When he opened his mouth, he could shout the Marquis, who had charged alone into the Beijue Mountains, into a daze, making him suspect that the talisman the Blind Wolf King had given him had been poisoned. He was everywhere throughout the whole Marquis Manor. Only when grown-ups yelled for him to come eat or sleep, he was always hard of hearing.

When he started schooling in early childhood, the number of private tutors who left in a rage was unprecedented and never to be duplicated; it was said that to this day no one in Dangui Lane had broken his record. He was also the only person whom His Third Highness, who even breathed more softly than others, had personally beaten. Soon his name shook the whole of the imperial capital of Jinping. An unknown number of innocent boys ended up getting beaten by their family’s discipline rods without knowing what they were about because they had hung out with him.

He had a courtesy name.

According to Southern Wan custom, boys didn’t need to reach the age of twenty; once they were sixteen, the age at which they could participate in the immortal selection, a courtesy name could be chosen. The Marquis chose the courtesy name “Shiyong” for him. When His Highness Prince Zhuang heard this, he made no comment, only clicked his tongue as if he had a toothache¹.

Later, the name “Xi Shiyong” leapt from the back molars of countless people.

He also had a nickname, which he had chosen himself.

When he was a little older than ten, he heard that a group of Southern Shu musicians had come to the pleasure boats, and they had spiritual beasts dancing backup, so he had called up a gang of his unruly friends. He had put on platform shoes to increase his height and gone to see the scenes of the south and was unfortunately caught in the act by His Third Highness, who had gone out to a social event for once. In front of others, san-ge kindly and gently patted him on the shoulder and kicked him under the table, squeezing out Touch the wine and you’re dead between his teeth.

So on Xi Ping’s first trip on a pleasure boat he didn’t end up getting to see spiritual beasts dance. He was detained and forced to drink tea for a shichen—san-ge himself was drinking jasmine tea, but he had him served with kuding tea², which was said to relieve internal heat.

The beauty serving tea pursed her lips behind her veil, furtively laughing at him. Xi Ping, looking glum, kept his head down, the tea service his only company as time dragged on at a snail’s pace. He remembered the words carved on the tea tray: When drunk of old named Yugan, driving out sleep created the Marquis of Buye.

“The Marquis of Buye” seemed like he was trying to be equals with his father; he didn’t dare to take it, so later he took the characters “Yu Gan” for his nickname, a memento of his first bitter taste of experience.

Mr. Yu Gan wrote many songs that were circulated and sung for a time. Sadly, none of them were worthy of being sung in elegant surroundings. Later, they had fallen silent with the decline of the pleasure boats on the Lingyang River.

A name, a courtesy name, and a nickname. These were the only things left of his life. Could he use these to overcome the near-shed skin hidden bones, keep the world from overturning?

Oh, yes. He also had an alias—

In the chaotic reincarnation wood, Xi Ping could no longer clearly hear what people were saying. Only the name “Tai Sui,” because it was mentioned too frequently, was constantly slipping past his ears.

“Tai Sui…”

“What are Tai Sui’s orders? What do we do?”

“Where is Tai Sui…”

“Tai Sui” was the one tiny bit of land that had remained to him when he had even lost the name “Xi Ping” and was walking in the mortal world.

It was also one of the reasons why, having come to an impasse, he wouldn’t hand over his consciousness altogether and allow the hidden bones to fuse with him.

“Stop calling,” he thought feebly. “Tai Sui can’t even look after himself!”

The reason that “Tai Sui” could be everywhere was because of the reincarnation wood. Could mortals really overcome the reincarnation wood and fish up his consciousness, which was inextricably linked to the hidden bones?

“Tai Sui!”

Just then, an aged yet powerfully resonant female voice suddenly came from a certain place. There was nothing strange about the human voice to begin with, but this cry of hers resonated with some qin strings. Those special qin strings droned once, and Xi Ping’s scattered consciousness was instantly shaken into some clarity.

He recognized the sounds at once. The qin was the Tai Sui Qin, and the person was his “good neighbor” in Tao County, Tao-er-nainai.

Because of her old age, Tao-er-nainai didn’t respect any taboos. She regularly went in and out of his “house” as she liked, and she looked after the yard and the reincarnation wood tree in it when Xi Ping wasn’t in Tao County.

His vital qin was hidden in that tree.

Xi Ping suddenly realized that among the places the hidden bones had passed through, it seemed that Tao County hadn’t been included…and that ought to have been the place where reincarnation wood trees were densest.

Before Xi Ping could consider why this would be the case, the Tai Sui Qin sounded several more times. While the notes were weak and tuneless, they seemed to form a thread, passing through his scattered and skittering consciousness like threading beads on a string, faintly beginning to pull him back.

This qin was his vital qin, born of his bones, playing his deepest thoughts and feelings, taking its name from him… It really could overcome reincarnation wood.

The only problem was that his vital qin wasn’t hanging up on a wall where people could just come up and strum it!

Tao-er-nainai was doing something in his yard, her voice loud and close, and some shout of hers had perfectly shaken the qin strings. But the old lady wasn’t a practiced performer who had studied mimicry; not every one of her shouts could shake the qin strings…and at her great age, her lungs wouldn’t hold out.

Indeed, after a few notes, the Tai Sui Qin fell silent. Xi Ping’s consciousness was once again compelled. He was burning with impatience. Anyone would do, as long as they made the Tai Sui Qin play a few more notes…

In Tao County’s Seventeen Li Town, Tao-er-nainai, hands on her hips, took several panting breaths, feeling that her throat had gone hoarse. She turned doubtfully to Zhao Qindan. “Sir Xu, if I shout like this, can Tai Sui hear it?”

Zhao Qindan frowned. She was always a little “deaf” in Tao County, unable to attach her spiritual sense to her hearing like she could outside. She couldn’t say whether there was an echo from the Tai Sui Qin sealed inside the tree.

Amid the chaos in the reincarnation wood, Zhao Qindan had been the first to react. She had called over Tao-er-nainai and gotten the keys to Xi Ping’s little house.

Before going to Southern He, Xi Ping’s spiritual sense had been giving him constant warnings. He had been a little paranoid and made quite a few preparations, both useful and useless, including entrusting Zhao Qindan with the location of the Law Breaker and the Tai Sui Qin, so if anything went wrong, she wouldn’t be at a total loss.

Xi Ping sealing his vital qin in reincarnation wood was equivalent to General Commander Pang placing his Barrier Dispelling Bow in his femur; an outsider couldn’t remove it—not unless Xi Ping died and the power of the vital qin and the reincarnation wood dissipated.

Currently, there was no response from Tai Sui himself in the reincarnation wood, but the qin was still firmly lodged in the tree; this demonstrated that regardless of what Tai Sui had encountered, he was at least still alive.

How was she supposed to use this vital divine weapon that she couldn’t get out to contact him…?

“Er-nainai,” Zhao Qindan said, getting a sudden flash of inspiration, a lousy idea appearing in her mind. She turned and asked, “Would you be able to find a gong?”

“A what?” said Tao-er-nainai.

Sometimes sharp sounds could shake the strings of a qin…or at any rate she had heard that it was like this for mortal instruments, and that this had produced rumors of hauntings. She didn’t know whether this ascended spirit grade immortal qin would be the same.

Zhao Qindan decided to try her luck. “Have some people come and try striking gongs next to the tree, alternating the pitch. It doesn’t need to be the same tune—the more tunes the better.”

Tao-er-nainai was all at sea, not understanding what “Sir Xu” was getting at. But er-nainai was always going to listen to Sir Xu get into shouting matches…no, debating; she admired her tremendously. Though she didn’t understand, she still immediately did as she said. While running an inn, she had received people from all walks of life; she was a person of prestige and good moral standing in her community and had extensive connections. She quickly and efficiently accomplished her mission, exceeding the quota—there weren’t only gongs; she had called up all the locals from the surrounding towns and villages in Tao County who could blow, bow, pluck, or sing.

Xi Ping’s quiet yard was stuffed full of people, and busybodies were constantly strolling over. Soon, even the streets in front of the house and behind it were jam packed.

At er-nainai’s order, drums and gongs crashed and suona horns wailed, loud and sonorous human voices mixing with them. No one had a score. Now they played “The Dragon and Phoenix Bringing Prosperity,” now they puffed “The Filial Son Kowtows”… They didn’t know whether the master of the house was getting married or being buried. Totally confused, they followed Tao-er-nainai’s commands, braising marriage and funeral in a single courtyard.

Zhao Qindan: “…”

This wasn’t very much like what she had thought of, but this was no time to wrangle. She had to make do. The young mistress stuck close to the reincarnation wood tree, concentrating with all her might on the sounds within. Just when she thought she was about to go deaf, a weak qin note came from inside the tree.

“Stop, stop, stop,” said Zhao Qindan, “stop!”

The whole yard full of festivity quieted. Only in the distant alley was there still an occasional toot. You could have heard a pin drop.

Imitating her, everyone pricked up their ears. They heard a continuous hum coming from the tree, like a call to the souls of the dead. After a while, the even note paused briefly, then returned with a tune…the qin sweet notes popular in Southern Wan!

Though Zhao Qindan was a girl from a decent family, she had spent the past several years hanging out with the bunch of spies in the Luwu; she had learned some sweet notes. As she listened, she took out the little notebook she carried with her and, groping and guessing, comparing what she heard against her notes, she succeeded in decoding the qin sweet notes: Madam, call off your magic power. I surrender.

Mortal music couldn’t very well continuously shake the Tai Sui Qin, but inside the qin there happened to be a Law Breaker, and everyone present amounted to the Law Breaker’s masters. The clamorous gongs and drums had disturbed the Law Breaker, agitating the qin strings from within.

Eight years ago, the Law Breaker’s axiom had taken effect and fished Xi Ping’s true body out from the bottom of the Impassable Sea. Now, with the Tai Sui Qin moving, they had also serendipitously called back Xi Ping’s “soul.”

When his consciousness crash landed in the Law Breaker’s space, it could hardly keep a human shape. Then, Xi Ping noticed to his astonishment that the Law Breaker actually hadn’t stopped working—outside, the sky was falling and the earth was cracking, but inside Tao County, the spiritual energy prohibition still held!

With Xi Ping’s superficial understanding, he felt that this was unreasonable: the inscriptions outside the Beijue Mountains were the ancestors of all the inscriptions in the world. The spiritual mountains, the divine tools, the demon seal…even the mountains and rivers were built upon them.

And according to what Lin Chi had said, the inscriptions used by the Law Breaker, a manmade object, came from the same series as the Lancang Spiritual Mountains; Hui Xiangjun must have used some means to decode the Lancang Mountains’ inscriptions and made the Law Breaker on that basis.

In everyday terms, the Beijue Mountain inscriptions were a house’s foundation, the Lancang Spiritual Mountains were the first floor, and the Law Breaker was a little attic built atop the spiritual mountains.

Now, it was as if the foundation and the first floor had both collapsed, leaving an “attic in midair,” hanging there on its own as if it were haunted.

Something stabbed Xi Ping’s peripheral vision. He looked down and found that he had picked up a small scoop of inscriptions, which were now falling in scraps inside the Law Breaker’s space. These were a portion of the crucial ancient inscriptions.

He had temporarily escaped the hidden bones’ control, and he had “made off with the loot”!