Chapter 6: Indecency

After completing the paperwork, Yu Xingyue returned to Nanbei Street with his permits and Wangfu.

The moment he closed the door, a pen rolled off the desk, tumbling a few times before stopping right by Yu Xingyue’s shoe.

Yu Xingyue: “…”

A tiny, transparent shadow was crouching on the chair. It was only the size of a palm, and its entire body displayed the unique, moisturizing white of Hetian jade. The transparent shadow had a pair of small horns on its head that were shorter than a finger, slightly pointed ears, and a leopard-like body covered in scales.

This was the vessel spirit of the jade Pixiu. After being nurtured on Nanbei Street for two days, it had transformed from a dying little Pixiu into a mischievous spirit, fond of pushing things down from high places whenever it had nothing to do.

Pens on the desk, plastic toothbrushes… fell to the ground from time to time. In the dead of night, the Pixiu could even be caught doing parkour across several antique display shelves.

With a cat-like habit like this, it was no wonder the Cao family always thought their house was haunted.

Bu Liuke sighed. “How can it be so mischievous?”

Lying flat on his back on the floor, the golden toad complained, “It almost pushed the cup down earlier! Boss, you have to discipline it, or else it’s going to tear the roof down!”

The golden toad had suffered greatly under the Pixiu’s torment. When the Pixiu did its midnight parkour, it would often “accidentally” bump into the golden toad, and sometimes it would even squat on the golden toad’s head to contemplate the meaning of a Pixiu’s life.

Bound by the red thread, the golden toad couldn’t move. Furthermore, with Yu Xingyue in the room, it could only swallow its anger.

Yu Xingyue had picked up the golden toad three times in half a day. Eventually, he simply chose to turn a blind eye, letting the jade Pixiu vent its anger on the golden toad. Every wrong has its cause, and every debt its debtor; the evil energy the golden toad emitted at the Cao residence had nearly caused the Pixiu to fade away. Compared to the harm the golden toad had inflicted, the Pixiu’s minor “revenge” was nothing more than a harmless prank.

Squatting on the table and looking down at the golden toad from a height, the Pixiu replied in a tone that suggested there are always treacherous subjects trying to harm the emperor: “I didn’t do it. You’re blind.”

Although the Pixiu was young, it had gained sentience several decades ago, so it possessed the clear, pleasant voice of a youth, rather than sounding childish.

As the ninth son of the dragon, a Pixiu resembled a tiger or a bear in appearance. Its vessel spirit looked fluffy, with a pair of small horns on its head, looking exactly like a spirited cat.

Yu Xingyue calmly stepped over the golden toad, having no intention of even bending down to pick it up. “Is that so?”

The golden toad let out a humiliated cry. “Ribbit—”

Yu Xingyue gave the Pixiu a pat. “I have official business. Go play by yourself for a bit.”

With that, he sat down and retrieved the jade box from his bag.

The Pixiu’s round eyes rolled as its gaze landed on the golden toad.

In desperation, the golden toad began to sob softly. “My life is so bitter…”

Yu Xingyue took out his earphones and put them on, pretending not to hear the golden toad’s dramatic, wailing tunes, and focused entirely on studying Wangfu.

Although he had promised Yu Tu to clean Wangfu, Yu Xingyue had absolutely no clue how to proceed. Wangfu was simply too special. Even though Yu Tu hadn’t set a time limit, Yu Xingyue couldn’t drag it out for too long.

The jade box was three inches square, pure white, and gentle to the touch, feeling slightly warm in his hands. All eight sides of the box were carved with illustrations of ghosts and deities.

Upon opening the jade box, what met his eyes were layers upon layers of “threads,” tangled and knotted with no discernible beginning or end. They tightly and seamlessly covered the true form of Wangfu, making it impossible to tell just how many threads were wound around it.

Life and death were momentous matters. After a living being died, the vast majority of their threads would automatically drop away. Only a tiny minority of deceased souls refused to let go of their past lives, leaving various threads still wrapped around their spirits.

The threads wound around Wangfu by deceased souls were obsessions and attachments that crossed the boundary of life and death. They were heavy and stubborn; trying to untangle them would undoubtedly require an immense amount of effort.

Yu Xingyue had once been cut by a thread from a deceased soul. Though it was only a shallow wound, it hadn’t healed for half a month.

If Wangfu possessed consciousness, it would probably be suffocated to the point of being unable to breathe by these threads, wouldn’t it?

Yu Xingyue placed Wangfu on the desk. Facing the object so covered in silk threads that its original form was completely unrecognizable, he said with a headache, “They said to take off the threads, but how exactly do I do it?”

Wangfu was simply too unique. If this were any other object, Yu Xingyue would have just gone right in with his hands, but he didn’t know if he was even allowed to touch Wangfu.

Bu Liuke said, “The previous owners used their own threads to draw out the threads on Wangfu. The threads of the deceased cross life and death, and the ones that can bind themselves to Wangfu’s true form are especially obsessive. Removing them is difficult, and it’s easy to get hurt.”

Bu Liuke encouraged Yu Xingyue, “But you are stronger than all of them. Before you, no one has ever been able to make the threads manifest before ordinary people.”

Only a few living creatures could see the threads, yet Yu Xingyue could actually make them visible to those who couldn’t see them.

Yu Xingyue smiled and ruffled Bu Liuke’s hair. “Thanks for the compliment. I’ll do my best.”

Yu Xingyue maintained a relaxed mindset. He was the type of person who took things as they came; once he found himself in a situation he couldn’t escape, he could always adapt very quickly. “Let’s take it slow.”

He nudged the silk threads, found an end, and slowly extended a red thread from his fingertips, attempting to connect it with the thread on Wangfu.

After several attempts, all failed.

The threads on Wangfu were indeed too stubborn, tightly binding themselves to it and completely ignoring the thread Yu Xingyue offered.

And threads, after all, weren’t as nimble as fingers. Yu Xingyue fell silent for a few seconds, then said quite innocently, “Actually, there shouldn’t be any harm in just using my hands, right?”

Bu Liuke thought about it and agreed, “The thoughts of artifacts are different from humans. As long as the threads can be untangled, any method should be fine.”

Having received Bu Liuke’s validation, Yu Xingyue hooked his finger under a white thread, drawing it out gently and slowly.

He had long, slender fingers and had done a lot of crafts during his school days, making his hands exceptionally nimble. With a slight curl of his fingertips, he easily picked up a thread.

While the threads on Wangfu looked numerous, in reality, it was just that the threads were very long and wound around many times. A single strand could wrap around three or four times. After Yu Xingyue untangled a dozen or so threads, the true form of Wangfu was already starting to show.

When Yu Xingyue pinched out the ends of the threads, it was inevitable that the pads of his fingers would brush against Wangfu’s true form.

—

The Underworld

Shi Wuyan abruptly opened his eyes and sat up from the freezing, long couch.

Yu Tu, who was dozing off to one side, was startled by Shi Wuyan. He stood up in a flurry. “Master?”

Master has been asleep for hundreds of years. Why did he suddenly wake up?

Shi Wuyan ignored him. Resting one hand against his own neck, his fingertips were pale and icy, pressing firmly against the blue veins throbbing there.

Shi Wuyan knit his brows in confusion—

The “threads” bound to his true form were currently being pulled away strand by strand. This wasn’t unusual; it was supposedly the owner of Not Keeping Guests untangling them. But unlike before, something soft and warm was directly touching his true form.

It felt like… human body heat.

Shi Wuyan could almost picture the scene—fingertips hooking out the stubbornly entangled threads, the warm, lightly calloused pads of the fingers brushing against his true form as each thread was pulled away.

Shi Wuyan pursed his lips.

The touch was intermittent, skin lightly grazing his true form, sweeping over it like a feather. Yet, it was impossible to ignore.

—

No. 137 Nanbei Street

In just two short hours, You Xingyue had already reached the final layer of threads.

These threads, which were attached directly to Wangfu’s true form, were much sharper and more stubborn than the outer layers. Moreover, Wangfu’s true form consisted of gears, both large and small, and the threads were jammed between them in all sorts of bizarre positions.

Failing to pay close attention for a split second, You Xingyue’s finger pad was sliced open by a thread. Because the cut was extremely deep, blood welled out instantly.

“Hiss.”

You Xingyue abruptly yanked his hand back, but it was still too late. A drop of blood slid down his finger and landed squarely on Wangfu.

You Xingyue’s expression changed slightly: This is bad.

Bu Liuke blurted out, “Oh no!”

Even ordinary artifacts shouldn’t be stained with blood, let alone Wangfu!

You Xingyue immediately pulled out a tissue. Just as he wiped away the blood drop, his wrist suddenly tightened—a figure had appeared out of thin air on the chair opposite him. The man circled You Xingyue’s wrist with one hand. Golden patterns flowed along his sleeves, exposing long, pale fingers.

His dense, pitch-black eyelashes drooped before suddenly lifting, his night-like eyes pinning You Xingyue: “…Presumptuous.”

He looked as though he rarely saw the sun, his complexion pale, yet his brows and lashes were as dark as ink, giving him a cold, striking handsomeness.

Though his wording was practically severe, his tone lacked any actual reproach.

A bad premonition welled up in You Xingyue’s heart.

Sure enough, the man continued, “Why… are you touching me?”

Calling it a touch was an understatement; some of those movements could fully be described as… caresses.

Bu Liuke was dumbfounded: Wangfu himself?!

Wangfu, who held dominion over the life and death of all living things, actually possessed spiritual awareness and could even manifest a human form?

Every past owner of Not Keeping Guests had untangled threads for Wangfu, but none had ever caused Wangfu to appear in person! This was also the first time Bu Liuke had ever seen Wangfu himself.

You Xingyue froze for a moment, then said, “Please let me explain. I really wasn’t trying to molest you.”

Bu Liuke immediately covered his face with his ten chubby fingers: Why does it feel like the more he explains, the worse it sounds?

—

The author has something to say:

Just to explain to everyone, the setting of the underworld in this novel is semi-fictional. It is not the traditional underworld setting; Wangfu is my own custom setting. Mwah to everyone, thank you for liking the story.