Seventeenth Transformation

The crimson serpent’s tongue swept across Mingyue’s nose, leaving behind a slick, clammy sensation. Mingyue stared fixedly at the snake, wanting to move but finding nowhere to go. She feared it might strike at any moment, leaving a wound on her body... Could it be that whoever brought her here simply ran out of snake feed?

At last, the red snake retreated, slithering back into the writhing mass. Mingyue had just let out a slow breath of relief when a cold hand suddenly grasped her ankle. That was the final straw—she screamed, though the sound was quickly swallowed up in the oppressive air. The chilling touch crept up her calf, but after a moment, it stilled. Mingyue uncovered her eyes and looked down at her legs.

She froze, then slapped hard, shouting, “Qin Shi!”

Qin Shi’s head took the blow, but his hand held firm. He moved closer, propping himself up with his free hand.

“Aren’t you going to let go? When is your corpse-like body ever going to feel normal?”

Qin Shi finally released her and sat beside her, leaning his head against her shoulder in a low voice. “Let me rest a moment, mistress...”

Mingyue was about to push him away when she noticed his pallor and the trail of blood smeared along the ground. She examined his face but found no wound. Grabbing his hand, she saw the source: a fine cut on his left index finger, still oozing fresh blood. Suddenly remembering something, Mingyue shielded Qin Shi’s head and looked at the ground around them. Sure enough, she saw bloodstains encircling their spot. She had wondered why, in a room full of snakes, none had come near them—yet why would Qin Shi’s blood repel snakes?

“Hey, who are you really?”

Qin Shi kept his eyes closed. Though pale, his expression was calm. Mingyue, seeing this, could not be bothered to press further. She leaned back against the wall, cradling Qin Shi’s head protectively in her arms, and closed her eyes. As time passed, she sensed the snakes in the room growing more restless. Instinctively she tried to retreat, but the wall gave her no escape.

The red snake that had so intimately approached her earlier slithered close once more. Don’t ask how she was certain it was the same one—she just knew. Mingyue shrank back, drawing her legs up as tightly as she could, hoping to make herself smaller. But this only seemed to draw the snakes closer.

Was she really destined to become snake fodder? Suddenly, the red snake lunged, jaws wide, tongue flickering as it struck at her. Mingyue squeezed her eyes shut, bracing for pain—but none came. She opened her eyes to see Qin Shi lifting his arm to let the red snake bite him. Mingyue was stunned. The snake released its hold, fell to the floor, writhed a moment, then lay still.

Not moving? Mingyue cautiously prodded it with her foot. No response. She lowered her gaze, staring into Qin Shi’s eyes. “Is your blood poisonous?”

“It would seem so,” Qin Shi replied quietly.

Mingyue was dumbfounded. She raised her hand as if to push Qin Shi’s head away, then paused. “Wait, that can’t be right. The old doctor I called when I found you said you were as strong as an ox—never mentioned anything about poison.”

Qin Shi couldn’t help but roll his eyes. He struggled upright, but she shoved him right back down.

“Poison or not, staying alive is what matters now.” Mingyue had barely finished speaking when the door swung open. She was unsurprised to see the two pallid men draped with snakes, but the masked woman who entered first caught her off guard—especially since she looked so very normal.

“You have waited long enough. As for your suspicions, allow me to clarify. This young man’s blood is not toxic to these spirit creatures—he is in fact quite healthy, or, rather, pure,” the masked woman said gently, her southern lilt warm and soft.

Mingyue exclaimed, “Spirit creatures?”

The woman laughed quietly and nodded. “To you, they are evil, but to us—those who practice gu—they are rare and precious spirits.” She crouched and coaxed a slender green snake onto her wrist, where it coiled placidly, as if it were a jade bracelet. As she approached, the snakes on the floor slithered aside, clearing a path, leaving Mingyue staring in awe.

“Being spirit creatures, they craved your blood. But for the same reason, so long as this young man is near, none of them dare harm you. There’s no need for fear.”

Mingyue was even more confused, but before she could ask, the woman circled her and stopped before Qin Shi.

“I know not who you truly are, but if your blood can kill even my dearest red snakes, perhaps it is fitting you keep this one close. Treat it well; it may serve you in time.”

As she spoke, she brushed her left earring. Mingyue caught a flash of gold as a tiny golden serpent coiled around Qin Shi’s left pinky. He frowned and tried to remove it, but no matter how he struggled, the little snake remained, as if fused to his flesh.

Mingyue slapped Qin Shi’s hand. “Enough. Maybe we can burn it off later. For now, let’s focus on more pressing matters.” As she finished, the golden snake hissed, flicking its tongue. Mingyue’s brow twitched, but she turned to the woman. “You’re from the southern lands—the ones who play with gu, aren’t you?”

The woman nodded slightly.

“Why not live as ordinary people? Why make yourselves so ghostly and strange? Just look at your faces, your eyes, your necks!”

The woman laughed aloud. “Gu practitioners from the south are indeed shunned by the orthodox world, but that is not the true reason. To join our sect, one must first plant a gu within oneself. The green snake is used to control the gu, to prevent harming ourselves. But when encountering a rare soul like you, the green snake will leave its master. To avoid harming others, we deliberately make ourselves look this way—to warn outsiders.”

“Who would approach someone with a snake around their neck?” Mingyue scoffed.

“There are two sides to everything. If gu can harm, can it not also heal?”

Mingyue was silenced. After a moment, she said, “If you mean no harm, then why are you shunned by the righteous? Even ordinary people would avoid you.”

“You are not wrong. But who defines right and wrong? Morality? Law? The effect on others and the world? We do have those who choose evil, but our punishment is far harsher than any court of law. On the other hand, are the so-called righteous all true gentlemen? We simply act on our hearts’ desires—draw close when we like, keep our distance when we don’t. Simple and direct, with little artifice... Yet I do not deny, if ever evildoers become the majority in our ranks, we would indeed become a scourge, for then we would bring harm to others.”

Mingyue said nothing. The more she listened, the less she believed this woman to be a villain. Yet now was not the time to ponder right and wrong—she needed to find a way out.

“You needn’t fear, my lady. We are only here to resolve a matter with Junzi Hall, and have no intention of harming you. I will have someone bring you to safety.”

“No!” Mingyue immediately raised her hand, halting her, and under the woman’s puzzled gaze insisted, “I want no one else. Only you.”

The woman’s delicate brows arched, as if puzzled by Mingyue’s insistence, but she nodded. “Very well. I will escort you myself.” She turned to whisper a few words to her companions, then led Mingyue and Qin Shi out of the house.

They wound their way through several rooms and corridors before stopping at the entrance to a secluded courtyard. “No disciples of mine will come here, nor should anyone from Junzi Hall. You can avoid being caught in the crossfire. After I leave, you may decide whether to stay or go. Here is a salve for the pain at the back of your neck. Of course, if you’re uneasy, you may discard it. Once again, I apologize.”

Mingyue accepted the porcelain bottle, and the woman turned away, vanishing from sight.

“Shall we go, or stay?”

Qin Shi was still staring at the golden snake on his pinky. “Go if you wish, stay if you like. Up to you.”

“Then... let’s stay a while.”

The two settled in the courtyard house. Not long after, sounds came from outside—not from the main gate, but another direction.

“Does your promise still hold, Mister Gu? If I kill Qin Shi, you’ll give me the last two portraits of Gu Yanrong?”

“Naturally. And I’ll let bygones be bygones regarding all you have done to Yanrong.”

“Heh. As long as Gu Yanrong’s face never appears in Shuzhou again, what you think of me is your own affair.”