Black Incense Lock 3+1 · chat.title

【First Meeting: Harboring a Demon】 The Taoist temple's roof was still leaking. It had rained two days ago, cracking a green roof tile at the corner, and three wooden basins sat on the floor catching the drips. Master refused to mend it, insisting on "waiting for clear skies"; when the skies cleared, he said "waiting until there's free time," putting it off for six months. That afternoon, he sat under the veranda casting divinations. Three copper coins flipped between his knuckles and clattered onto the bluestone, ding-ding-ding. He stared at the hexagram for a long while, his fingers still pinching the position, before suddenly freezing. "Demonic aura." He swept the coins into his palm, his voice subdued. "North of the Jinpu Railway, inside an estate. It has already matured." You asked what kind of demon it was. "Can't see through it." He shook his head, his brow furrowing unusually deep. "A thick fog weighs upon the hexagram, showing only the tip. A century-old entity, its roots run deep. Drag this out any longer, and lives will be lost." Chu Yunyou was squatting nearby, whittling a peach wood branch with a small knife. Hearing this, he looked up: "Master, then I'll go with Senior Brother/Sister." Master glanced at him, didn't reply right away, and looked at you first: "Take him along. For experience." Chu Yunyou grinned, revealing his canine teeth. Master added under his breath, dropping his tone: "Keep an eye on him." "What's wrong with me?" Chu Yunyou grumbled, displeased. "You know very well in your heart." Master slipped the coins into his sleeve pocket, stood up, and patted the dust from his knees. "That residence bears the surname Xiao. When you arrive, mind your manners. Don't go slapping talismans the moment you walk through the door." "And what if he refuses to let us exorcise it?" you asked. Master walked toward the inner room, tossing back a parting remark: "If he won't let you exorcise it, it means the demon has ties to him. In that case, you have all the more reason to stay." Chu Yunyou tucked the whittled peach wood branch into his sash, stood up, and the bell at his hip chimed softly: "Senior Brother/Sister, when are we leaving?" "Tomorrow morning." "Can we leave tonight?" "..." You gave him a look. He immediately wiped the grin from his face, cast his eyes down, and behaved obediently: "Tomorrow morning it is. I'll listen to you, Senior Brother/Sister." From inside the room came Master's snort, impossible to tell if it was a chuckle or a cough. --- The next day, before dawn broke, the two of you descended the mountain. Your pack contained a stack of talisman paper, three copper coins, and a peach wood sword. Master had slipped you an extra small cloth bundle; upon opening it, you found two pieces of dry ration and a hastily scrawled note: "Tell me if you run short on coin." Chu Yunyou leaned in to peek, curling his lip: "Master won't even fix his own roof." "Hold your tongue." "Oh." He behaved for about the time it took half an incense stick to burn, before he began asking whether you'd encounter other demons on the road, what the Marshal's Manor looked like, and whether that Young Marshal was mean. You answered him line by line, and he followed along, word for word. Three days later, you stepped across the threshold of the Marshal's Manor. Old Fu walked half a pace faster than usual, a detail Chu Yunyou caught immediately. From the manor gate to the main hall, one had to cross two courtyards. Paved with blue bricks and lined with neatly manicured pines and cypresses, it was clear the grounds were meticulously maintained year-round. Old Fu led the way with a slight hunch, keeping his mouth shut tight, only pausing half a step before the moon gate to gesture: "Guests, this way please." The main hall doors stood wide open, the interior lighting kept dim. A thick carpet muffled boot steps. The grand armchair behind the long table was empty, and tea had already been brewed—three cups. Three. Chu Yunyou swept his gaze over them, and the bell at his waist chimed faintly. Xiao Zhi entered through the side door. Still clad in his military uniform, his eyes fell first upon the stack of talismans on the table before shifting to the people. His gaze was unhurried, like leafing through a ledger long prepared. He didn't sit right away; he had a servant nudge the chair forward half a foot before finally speaking: "Guests from afar, please take a seat." His voice was remarkably soft, the cadence landing softly on "seat," as though wary of startling something. Chu Yunyou came to a halt behind your shoulder, unmoving. Xiao Zhi's gaze lingered on him for a split second—brief, yet thorough. That glance swept from Chu Yunyou's face down to the bell at his waist, then to his right hand hanging at his side, primed to form a mudra at any moment, before pulling back. He raised a hand to signal Old Fu to serve refreshments. You laid out the purpose of your visit: the demonic aura, the hexagram, the nightly disturbances within the manor. Having heard it all, Xiao Zhi showed no surprise; instead, he seemed subtly relieved, slowly sliding a teacup toward you: "To be frank with you, Master, these past two weeks... I haven't slept peacefully at night." At the words "haven't slept peacefully," his eyelids dipped half an inch, allowing the shadows of the lamplight to pool perfectly in his eye sockets. His timing was impeccable. Chen Shouzheng stood straight by the doorway, motionless from start to finish. When you uttered the words "rear garden," his gaze flicked—not toward you, but toward Xiao Zhi. Chu Yunyou followed that gaze, catching Xiao Zhi intercepting it. Between master and servant, that single glance conveyed everything. "There is a moon gate in the rear garden, kept locked all year round," Xiao Zhi continued smoothly. "The tree inside is older than my ancestors. If you wish to walk about the manor, Master, anywhere else is fine. But that gate—leave it closed for now." Chu Yunyou let out a soft chuckle at that moment, quiet, as if unable to stifle it. Xiao Zhi raised his eyes: "Does the young Daoist have something to say?" "Nothing." Chu Yunyou took half a step forward, positioning himself diagonally ahead of you, his smile impeccably clean: "I just think the feng shui of this manor is so nourishing that even the trees grow more spirited than elsewhere." The hall fell dead silent for a heartbeat. Old Fu's hands froze midair over the pastry platter, and Chen Shouzheng's brow twitched. Xiao Zhi smiled, a curve as faint as a thin layer of frost: "You have sharp eyes, young Daoist." He raised his cup and took a sip, looking no longer at Chu Yunyou, redirecting the conversation back to you in that same soft voice: "Master, it has been a tiring journey. Rest in the manor tonight. The matter of the demon is not urgent enough to press this very hour." As he said this, Old Fu's refreshments were placed onto the table—a plate of sweet-scented osmanthus cakes, a plate of crisp candy, the rims of the porcelain wiped sparkling clean. "I happened to overhear the gatekeeper mention earlier that the kitchen was preparing pastries," Chu Yunyou smiled, showing both fangs. "I hadn't expected them to be for us. You've gone through so much trouble, Marshal." That "so much trouble" was delivered with such excessive politeness that the pot of tea on the table seemed to chill half a degree. Xiao Zhi set down his teacup, his fingertips tracing the porcelain rim in a slow circle, before he raised his eyes to you. His voice dropped low, as though speaking to you alone: "This junior brother of yours, Master, may be young, but his mind is remarkably astute." Chu Yunyou didn't reply, simply retreating half a step behind you, the bell chiming faintly once more. Right at that moment, drifting in from the hall's back window out of nowhere, a single peach blossom petal fluttered across the table rim, spinning aimlessly before coming to rest right beside the teacup before you. The afternoon sun slanted low; there was no breeze in the hall, and the windows were shut fast. Chen Shouzheng's hand moved to the holster at his waist. Xiao Zhi did not flinch. Looking at that petal, the curve of his lips didn't shift by a millimeter. He merely nudged the teacup forward, acting as though he saw nothing: "Master, your tea is getting cold." Chu Yunyou kept his eyes lowered, his right hand already retracted into his sleeve, fingertips pinching something tight.