WBICDPH Chapter 37 Part 1

Chapter 37: Spring Snow, Clear Skies

After borrowing money from Second Master Qin that day, Chu Ji had truly intended to go to Xu Dongsi as soon as possible.

She feared drawing others into danger, so she dared not tell anyone about her situation. She could only race against time alone, hoping to complete at least one thing before her life came to an end.

This person—this matter—was something she had promised herself years ago, something she had long hoped for. Never before had it felt so close.

She tried to shake off the shadow guards and chose the shortest route from Drunken Immortal Pavilion to Manting Spring. Yet no matter how short the distance, she never managed to finish the journey.

That day, in the rear alley of Manting Spring, there stood a half-built wall.

She was surrounded in front of it, clutching the letters in her arms—letters that might never reach their recipient—and forever halted just half an incense-stick’s time away from meeting Xu Dongsi.

Just a little short.

Her friend. Her confidante. Her benefactor, who had rescued her from suffering, remained trapped there forever. And the light she had admired since her youth, warm and radiant like the sun.

To silence the matter, both she and the box of letters were sealed inside the wall nearby.

Fate, in the end, was cruelly ironic. While alive, they never once met again—yet in death, they were trapped in the same place for so many years.

It turned out they had once been so close. Sadly, no one would ever know.

Chu Ji’s remains were indeed hidden within the unexcavated half of the wall. But after so many years, both bodies had long since turned to skeletons. Their builds were too similar; no one present could tell which bones belonged to whom.

In the end, Second Master Qin made the decision and arranged everything. They were buried together.

Lin Jin took on the task of placing the remains.

The skeletons unearthed from the wall were incomplete. Fortunately, Lin Jin had studied such matters before and was barely able to piece the scattered bones back together.

But when he reached the final stage, standing between the two coffins, he suddenly stopped—strangely so.

Han Ao, who had been beside him the entire time, asked casually,
“What’s wrong?”

“…” Lin Jin frowned slightly.
“Something’s missing.”

“What’s missing?”

“The spine.”

He checked the two skeletons again and confirmed,
“An adult spine has twenty-six vertebrae. I can’t say which one exactly, but one segment is missing.”

“Well… maybe it eroded? It’s been so many years, and the skeletons weren’t complete to begin with.”

“That may be true,” Lin Jin replied slowly, “but for both of them to be missing the same segment—doesn’t that feel a little too coincidental?”

His instincts told him there was something wrong, something unresolved. Yet no matter how he thought it through, he couldn’t identify where the flaw lay.

With no evidence to support his doubts, he finally accepted the explanation of natural erosion, sealed the coffins, and laid them to rest.

At that point, the matter was considered concluded. Still, Lin Jin and Han Ao didn’t leave immediately; they stayed in Zhongyun City for a few more days.

Second Master Qin hosted them warmly. Lin Jin caught up on sleep, finished writing his mission report, wandered through the markets to buy what he needed, and accomplished everything he had come for.

They also heard that the madam of Manting Spring had been convicted of abusing the women and hiding corpses. Though her crimes didn’t warrant execution under the law, she was sentenced to two hundred lashes and exile for three thousand miles.

Afterward, rumors that Manting Spring was haunted only grew stronger. Second Master Qin seized the opportunity to buy the property and properly resettle the women who had lived there.

He gave them sufficient money. Those who wished to stay could serve as maids in his household; those who wanted to leave were free to go. Yao Niang and Zuitang, for instance, chose to travel together downriver to Jiangnan to see the peach blossoms.

According to Second Master Qin, the heavy snowfall of recent days marked the end of a long winter. With the snow cleared and skies bright, Zhongyun City would soon welcome spring.

On the day they were to depart, Lin Jin pulled Han Ao along for another visit to the graves of Xu Dongsi and Chu Ji.

They were buried on a small hill behind the city. Second Master Qin had said that in spring and summer, the area would bloom into fields of flowers. Lin Jin wouldn’t be there to see it—he only wanted to say goodbye. Unexpectedly, they ran into someone there.

“Miss Liu?” Lin Jin greeted Liu Fuxin with a respectful bow.
“You haven’t left yet?”

“Not yet,” Liu Fuxin replied after returning the greeting. “I traveled around the outskirts of Zhongyun City these past few days and didn’t encounter anything noteworthy, so I’m preparing to move on. What happened with Miss Xu and Miss Chu affected me deeply—I wanted to bid them farewell before leaving.”

“So did we.”

Lin Jin nudged Han Ao with his elbow, hoping he’d say a few words. Instead, Han Ao turned tongue-tied the moment Liu Fuxin stood before him. Lin Jin sighed inwardly and took a sapling from his storage pouch.

“Miss Chu longed for the peach blossoms of Jiangnan,” he said gently. “I thought I’d plant a peach tree here. I’m not sure if the climate suits it, or if it will bloom.”

“That’s a good idea. I’ll help.”

“Even better.”

The three of them planted the sapling beside the graves. Once it stood firmly, Liu Fuxin formed a hand seal. Clear spiritual energy flowed from her fingertips, wrapping around the young peach tree.

It was a simple growth spell. Soon, nourished by spiritual energy, the tree thickened, branches spreading outward.

Buds sprouted. Blossoms opened. Pale pink peach flowers filled the canopy. When the wind passed through, petals drifted down, gently covering the two graves.

“The peach blossoms are beautiful,” Liu Fuxin said softly. “May our paths cross again, friends.”