It was nearing midday when they arrived.

Near the tail-end of their journey He Jiangshan couldn’t hold it anymore, and he’d spurred his horse onwards, causing Fang Xiaoxiao, ever the competitive spirit, to race him as well. Bai Nian was left with his three lagging disciples, who’d all stayed behind to chat about peak logistics of all things— his expression was flat and unflappable, but Assistant 51C had been cackling inside Shen Jing’s brain for the past few minutes.

<Shoulda seen his face when he turned and only caught a glimpse of Fang Xiaoxiao’s horse’s tail as she just sped off. It was like a mix of resignation and surprise and bafflement. Guy really don’t got much experience dealing with kids.>

Anlin Town was a lively town, with bright walls and rich foliages. The sun streamed through the gaps as though infusing the scene with ordinary magic; Shen Jing couldn’t help but feel warm when they finally entered, trying not to look too much like he was ogling everything as they went down the main street. Fang Xiaoxiao and He Jiangshan had arrived ahead, lingering by a fountain in what appeared to be the town center— several people were there, too, seemingly there to wait for their arrival.

The village head received them and walked them to the inn they’d reserved, several men coming over to take their horses to the stable. There was an entire welcome thing that Shen Jing tuned out, and Bai Nian probably did, too— after a whole awkward half an hour (for Shen Jing and Bai Nian), they were finally allowed to leave and put their things in their rooms. Each got their own, with Bai Nian getting the best room— hospitality funded by the rich family of the victim, it seemed.

No matter, though. They gathered once more in the sitting room. Xuan Lang was there first, and handed them each simple, nondescript scrolls— when Shen Jing unfurled it, he saw that the details of the case had been copied onto it, and that it had included a lot more details than he’d recalled laid out in the novel.

“We came here because there’s been a string of murders across the town, one where witnesses only say they saw the shadow of the creature before the victim died,” Xuan Lang explained as the rest opened their scrolls and read through its contents. Silence. After even Fang Xiaoxiao finished reading hers, he continued, “We will split into groups to make the most of today. Shizun?”

Bai Nian turned an assessing eye to them. After some time, he said, “Xuan Lang, take Shen Jing. Ji Hualiu, go with Fang Xiaoxiao. He Jiangshan will go with me.”

Eh…?

Eh?!

It wasn’t that Shen Jing felt like he was intruding, this time, but he would’ve— he would’ve felt better if he was dragged along by Fang Xiaoxiao, or He Jiangshan even. They were— they were the type to happily go and get what they wanted, and interacting with them was simple. Shen Jing was more than happy to roll along with it, knowing that he didn’t have to second-guess whether they actually wanted him around. With Xuan Lang and Ji Hualiu, they both were polite enough to not let distaste show unless Shen Jing was really, truly an awful person; reading them was harder, hard enough to make him nervous. As for Bai Nian, it was better if he didn’t think about it.

Shen Jing didn’t know explicitly what Xuan Lang’s expectations of him would be in a situation like this. Though it still left him tense all the same, at least Shen Jing knew that in classes Xuan Lang would expect attention and being listened to, and in cultivation he expected everyone to do their due diligence. In a case, though? Would he expect Shen Jing to notice things related to, oh he had no idea, maybe medicine or biology? But Shen Jing was a nursing student, not a med school student. He didn’t have that kind of training!

<Calm down o ye of burdened thoughts. I’m sure your Lang-ge just expects normal levels of functioning. You already know who did it anyway? And how they went about figuring it out.>

“Wu-jie,” Shen Jing choked out with hardship, “That’s all the more reason to worry. If I don’t do it properly, it’ll look like I’m guessing at random and getting it right, at worst I’ll take away the entire team dynamic establishing effect of this arc.”

<Eh, I think you’re worrying too much. Fang Xiaoxiao and He Jiangshan have established enough personality, they’re in no danger of being written out I don’t think. Do you really think they wouldn’t have come up with something else?>

That was true...

“Xiaoxiao and I can go back to the victim’s family,” Ji Hualiu offered. The sound of her voice snapped him out of his thoughts. “What about you, Da-shixiong?”

That was a good move on her part. The victim’s family was a rich one and somewhat of a local big name around here; out of them all, she was the most equipped to talk with them without stepping on toes. Fang Xiaoxiao was sharp and could be left to roam outside while Ji Hualiu talked. Xuan Lang contemplated his choices.

“I will go to the Lower Quarters,” he said. That was the poorer area of the village, closer to the fields that stretched along the slopes of the mountains— in the original novel, Xuan Lang followed his gut and went to this area first. It had been somewhat of a shot in the dark; he’d heard that the kids there kept chattering on and on about it and weirding out some of the middle-class kids who went to school, who then told their parents about it. Really, the entire town had been thrown into a frenzy— they sent a request to Mount Song Sect, and here they were.

Bai Nian nodded. “I will take an overview.”

Which meant he was going to take an aerial stock of the situation and might try to force the yao out. Shen Jing hoped He Jiangshan had fun with that.

“Return for lunch so we may discuss,” Bai Nian said. “Now go.”

____

The town was a different experience on foot, Shen Jing found.

He’d left the cloak back in his room; the air wasn’t as cold as high up in Silver Forest Peak, and he was sweating a bit as his body readjusted to normal temperatures. Late in the morning, the atmosphere was loud and lively— maybe not with cheer per se, but there were a lot of people outside for a town recently plagued by the appearance of a serial killer. Then again, this was a xianxia town… and in general, they probably were used to all the cultivators and yaoguai existing in their universe. Okay, Shen Jing could understand now.

In any case, Anlin Town was a rather nice place. The two of them traced along the main streets again before taking a turn; the large road was paved and well-maintained, and the stalls that took shade under the parasol trees were overflowing with wares and fresh produce. This abundance was easy to explain: this was the Upper Quarters, where the rich and middle-class lived. As they walked down this direction the houses and stores became smaller and more weathered, but not run down. Still, the streets remained busy. There was a small lake sitting in this part of town— when Shen Jing and Xuan Lang passed by it, Shen Jing couldn’t help but notice the lively markets that lined one side of it. They crossed a bridge, the small river snaking under it meandering off into the distance— it disappeared behind the trees before reemerging in the faraway verdant terraces. The stone streets became packed dirt, and the residences that surrounded them were much simpler now.

It wasn't that long before the two of them walked into the plot— Xuan Lang pulled Shen Jing to the side in the nick of time as someone stumbled past, sprinting away with desperate gasps. A tern? A group of kids, probably in their tweens, came barrelling after with loud hoots and jeers. They slowed to a stop, seeming to be done with chasing the person, but they continued to laugh.

"The shadow monster will tear you limb by limb!" One of them hollered before laughing, sending a shiver down Shen Jing's spine. Xuan Lang frowned and pulled him closer, stepping forward in a shielding gesture. "What a goddamn loser."

"Dumbass thought he could enter our turf and— what you looking at?"

The one giving Xuan Lang the stink-eye couldn't be older than Shen Jing, but had quite the guts. Still, at Xuan Lang's flat gaze, he backed down.

"What's the point of you guys even here if no one's going to believe… Ugh, whatever. Let's go, guys."

And just like that, the group left. Xuan Lang sighed, eyes fixed on their backs until they disappeared from sight; he had a lot of thoughts, for sure, and yet what was there to say? When reading 《Through the Eye of the Storm》, Shen Jing could follow the deep and thorough thoughts of the protagonist— how much he thought things through before talking. Here, though, all Shen Jing could grasp was the hanging silence; there used to be words here, but now all that was left was guesses.

Before he could break the silence, there was a loud cry from a house further down the street. It was a child, followed by a woman's reply— "Xiao-Jiang, please, Mother needs to go work if we want to eat tomorrow, I don't have time to bring you along!"

The crying got louder.

“Don’t want you to die!” he wailed. Half his body was dragging on the floor; the kid buried his face in his mother’s skirt and sobbed more.

Such a sight— Shen Jing had come forward before his thoughts caught up to him, and he was now face to face with a crying 6 years old and his tired, irate mother. Shen Jing opened his mouth, trying to explain himself, but found himself bereft of words. Thankfully, Xuan Lang was close behind; before the woman could take issue with Shen Jing being a literal stranger showing up to stare at her crying child, he said, "Excuse me, we are disciples from Mount Song Sect and entrusted with handling the murder cases recently happening."

It must be either the conveniences of xianxia novels or Mount Song Sect's reputation over here, but the woman believed them and relaxed when Xuan Lang showed his jade pass. She looked at the child clinging to her leg and said, "Look, Xiao-Jiang. The cultivators have arrived and will take the cat shadow away, okay?"

Xuan Lang exchanged a look with Shen Jing. Cat shadow?

Xiao-Jiang was wide eyed and teary, and Shen Jing dropped to meet him eye-to-eye as he handed the child a handkerchief. The boy stared at it for a moment before reaching for it, then after another moment of struggling to pull away his own grip on his mother's clothes he blew his nose. He wiped his tears away with the back of his hands, leaving streaks behind.

"Mom will still be eaten," Xiao-Jiang said, voice hoarse. "I don't want Mom eaten."

At that, Shen Jing turned to Xuan Lang, chewing his lips. The mother was sighing, too, but as soon as she moved her son clung to her with renewed energy— she yelped in pain and grabbed the doorway to regain balance, but before she could strike her child in the moment's anger she faltered. Lips thinning, Xuan Lang looked at Shen Jing, and Shen Jing took in a deep breath to say, "Da-shixiong, would you… be okay with taking uh… Auntie to where she works…? Would that make you feel better, Xiao-Jiang?"

Nineteen years old Xuan Lang didn't look like a gangly teenager— when Xiao-Jiang took an actual look at him, he finally nodded, still sniffling.

Xuan Lang let out a sigh— Shen Jing felt something closing in on his head, but it then moved away. At last, Xuan Lang said, "All right. You two go inside and close the doors, don't open it for anyone but me, okay?"

Shen Jing nodded as he pulled Xiao-Jiang off of his mother, feeling the small hand grip his not-that-much-larger one. The boy got to his knees, then to his feet— Shen Jing praised him in hushed voices as he himself stood up, then bent down to brush off the boy’s pants. The woman shot them both grateful looks.

“Xiao-Jiang, Mother will be home fine, all right? Be a good boy, don’t make trouble.”

And she hurried away, Xuan Lang in tow. After they disappeared round the bend, Shen Jing turned to Xiao-Jiang. "Let's go in, mm?"

namio

Defense, done. Self, burnt out. Won't make any promises, this fossil has just been sleeping the eternal sleep.