Stone Gate.
In a roadside tea pavilion, a young couple sat close together.
But anyone who looked carefully could see the worry and tension on their faces—thinly disguised, impossible to hide.
They were Duke De'an's "filial daughter," Huachu, and Jianqiu, the man she had run away with.
"Jianqiu… I'm starting to regret it," Huachu said with bitterness. "I could've just left and never looked back, but I had to do something extra. Now I can't even go home."
Jianqiu held her soft hand gently, soothing her in a warm voice.
"Don't worry too much. If we hide here for a few years, everyone will gradually forget. Then we can return."
Huachu pulled her hand free, staring at him with dissatisfaction and resentment. "You promised me happiness. Is this what you meant by happiness?"
"Every day, it's coarse food and endless chores?" Jianqiu still spoke gently.
"My love, isn't this kind of life good? We're far from the noisy world, free of all its disputes, together with the person we love."
His words only lit the fuse.
Huachu's long-suppressed anger exploded. Her voice rose.
"What I wanted was romance. Sweetness. A life full of surprises and passion." "Not this boring, suffocating misery."
She shoved her hands toward him—once pampered, now roughened, faint calluses forming.
"Do you know? Back home, I was a noble young lady. I never did a single chore in my life, and now…"
Jianqiu's voice remained soft.
"Huachu… love is like this. It requires sincerity from both of us."
Huachu's brows tightened. She waved him off impatiently. "Enough! I don't want to hear your 'truths' anymore."
"I don't want to 'give' anymore. I'm sick of this bitter life."
"The life of a rich young lady—comfort, luxury, ease—that's what suits me." Jianqiu's expression cooled.
"Miss Huachu… have you forgotten? Damaging a corpse is a serious crime." The threat in his words was obvious.
In that instant, Huachu finally understood why he had pushed her into doing it in the first place. She trembled with fury.
"Jianqiu—you shameless, despicable bastard!" Jianqiu snapped back coldly.
"And you're vicious as a snake."
Just as the argument was about to become a full-blown screaming match— Keqing arrived with two officers.
The trio stopped in front of them.
"You two can save your breath," Keqing said coolly. "Come with me."
…
A few days later, sunlight warmed the earth.
Song Yinjian lounged lazily on the chair outside his shop, savoring the sun's gentle touch. Two days ago, he'd completed a job—just an ordinary commoner's funeral.
Unremarkable. Even the system stingily gave him only five cultivation points. He checked his status.
Mid-stage Qi Refining (130/200).
He calculated silently—at this rate, in half a year at most, he'd break into Foundation Establishment.
Then he'd learn Li Shui's lightning arts and become a true "Thunder King," commanding lightning itself.
Just as he sank into that pleasant fantasy, Keqing hurried up and spoke. "I need your help with something—"
Before she could finish, Song Yinjian cut her off immediately.
"No. I handle funerals. Finding the truth is the Judicial Office's job." Keqing's brows furrowed, irritation sharp in her tone.
"If the Judicial Office could uncover the truth, why would I come to you?" "Zhang Xiaoli was only eighteen. Alone, with nowhere to rely on."
"If we don't uncover the truth, she'll die wronged." Song Yinjian waved his hand dismissively.
"If it's not your position, don't meddle in its duties. Instead of wasting time here, go find Ningguang. She's the one in charge."
Keqing snorted.
If going to Ningguang worked, she would've done it already.
As Tianquan, Ningguang's main concern was authority and law.
But she was also Liyue's wealthiest, most successful merchant—she didn't have time for individual cases.
Even if Keqing brought this case to her, she'd receive nothing but a few perfunctory lines. "Song Yinjian," Keqing said, voice tightening, "what will it take for you to help Zhang Xiaoli?" Song Yinjian rubbed his hands awkwardly.
"Master Keqing… it's that land matter I've mentioned a few times…" Keqing's anger flared, but she forced it down.
"Fine. If the truth behind Zhang Xiaoli's death is uncovered, I'll find you a plot of land on Mt. Tianheng for your cemetery."
Song Yinjian's face lit up with a brilliant smile.
"Thank you, Master Keqing! In that case, let's move—immediately." He hopped up from the chair and stretched lazily.
Keqing, as always, went straight to business.
"Then we'll go to Mister Zhang's place first. Zhang Xiaoli's body has been returned there. You can communicate with her spirit."
Song Yinjian stared at her, utterly speechless.
"Master Keqing… you don't actually believe I can talk to spirits, do you?" Keqing blinked, confused.
"Didn't you say you could? And you're an adeptal disciple—shouldn't it be easy for you?" Song Yinjian sighed.
"First, the only person in Liyue who can truly communicate with spirits is Director Hu of Wangsheng Funeral Parlor."
"Second, after someone dies, their soul disperses into heaven and earth within seven days. Feelings and memories remain only in the ley lines."
"Zhang Xiaoli's been dead for who knows how long. Who am I supposed to talk to?" Keqing frowned.
"Then what about all the funeral rites you perform? Are they fake?" Song Yinjian shrugged.
"If the soul is already gone, what use are rites?"
"They're for the living—to express remembrance and respect. That's all."