"I just tested it on a few prisoners," Master Yin Xue's elegant voice continued calmly from the spirit jade. "I'll give you an update once I confirm its effects."
Linyue nodded faintly to herself. That was… helpful. Also mildly unsettling. But helpful.
Meanwhile, Song Meiyu launched into a rapid summary of their adventure so far: the sudden illness spreading in the border, the suspiciously empty streets, and even the cursed garlic dumpling noodle disaster.
There was a thoughtful hum from Master Yin Xue. "It's hard to say with so little data. The range is too wide. This might not even be a disease. Some poisons can cause similar symptoms."
Song Meiyu gasped loudly. "That's true! I didn't even think of that!"
"It's alright," Master Yin Xue said with serene, unshakable calm. "Just check a patient directly. Call me again after."
"Yes! Thank you, my dear Master!" Song Meiyu beamed.
"Goodbye, my dear disappointment."
The spirit jade dimmed.
Song Meiyu froze. "…Wait. What?"
He Yuying patted her shoulder. "It's okay. She says that to everyone."
"…She called you that too?" Song Meiyu asked hopefully.
"No. She just calls me disgrace, which is technically one step above disappointment."
Linyue added without missing a beat, "She calls me pretty."
Shen Zhenyu let out a quiet laugh he didn't bother to hide.
And so, after a morning full of garlic fumes, coughing blood mysteries, endless marriage proposals, and now poison speculation, the four cultivators kept moving down the road. Their horses sighed in unison. Clearly, they were done with this nonsense too.
The road stretched out long and dull, filled with nothing but the steady sound of hooves and the occasional bird too lazy to chirp properly. By the time they reached the village near the border, the sun was already starting to lower. A wooden gate stood ahead, tall and tightly shut. No voices drifted out. No smoke curled from chimneys. Not even a single chicken running wild, which in their experience was never a good sign. Only the wind brushed past dry leaves, making them skitter across the ground.
They stopped in unison, all four pairs of eyes fixed on the gate.
Linyue narrowed her eyes. "It seems the situation is really serious."
Shen Zhenyu gave a slow, grim nod. "They even closed the gate. Either to keep people outside from getting in." He paused. "Or to keep people inside from getting out."
He Yuying shivered and rubbed his arms. "I got chills. This looks exactly like the opening scene of a bad ghost story. The one where everyone dies except the chickens."
Song Meiyu glanced around nervously. "So… what now? Do we turn back and live long, safe, garlic-scented lives?"
Shen Zhenyu slid off his horse in one graceful motion. Again. He had probably dismounted more times today than in his entire life. He walked forward with purpose.
He Yuying groaned and reluctantly followed. "Or… we walk straight into the potential death zone. Of course. Why not. Perfect way to end a cursed day."
Song Meiyu trotted forward behind Shen Zhenyu, her braid bouncing with each step. "Well, we've come this far," she said cheerfully.
Linyue dismounted gracefully, landing with barely a sound. She muttered under her breath, "I should have stayed in bed this morning."
He Yuying looked deeply unimpressed. He pointed a finger at the gate. "So, we're just gonna jump in and sneak through? Isn't that called trespassing? I'm pretty sure that's illegal even for cultivators."
"Or…" Linyue said calmly, "we can start with knocking."
Song Meiyu clapped her hands together like Linyue had just invented a genius strategy. "And if no one answers, we kick it open!" she added brightly.
Shen Zhenyu sighed and stepped forward. He raised a fist and knocked politely on the heavy wooden gate. Three polite raps. Professional. Courteous.
Silence.
He tried again. Louder this time. The sound echoed eerily down the empty road.
Still nothing.
Song Meiyu tilted her head. "See? I told you. We should just kick it. Brother Yuying, go for it!"
"Why me?!" He Yuying yelped.
Song Meiyu turned toward him with a dazzling smile and raised one finger at a time as she spoke. "Brother Zhenyu is too dignified to do it. Sister Linyue is too pretty to do it. And I…" She paused dramatically, reaching behind her back.
What she revealed was a small, familiar snack pouch. "...stole your snack supply."
He Yuying gasped and patted his belt in panic. The pouch was gone. His eyes widened. "That's cheating!"
Song Meiyu beamed at him. "And effective."
He Yuying stared at her. Then at the gate. Then back at her. His jaw worked soundlessly like he was trying to form words but only rage fumes came out. Then with the saddest sigh in the world, He Yuying rolled up his sleeves.
Linyue leaned toward Shen Zhenyu, her eyes twinkling with quiet mischief. "Do we have enough money for bribes if we get arrested?"
Shen Zhenyu glanced at her, an amused curve tugging at his lips. "Don't worry," he murmured. "I'll disown them and run away with you if it comes to that."
Linyue nodded seriously. "Deal."
Meanwhile, He Yuying marched toward the gate. He muttered something under his breath, probably a prayer or a complaint about stolen snacks, then raised his leg and aimed for the kick of the century.
And then—CREAK.
The gate chose that exact moment to swing open on its own.
He Yuying's foot, now fully committed, was no longer aimed at stubborn wood but at the face of an unfortunate soul standing behind the gate.
That unfortunate soul was… Boyi.
He froze in horror, staring straight at the bottom of He Yuying's boot. "What in heavens—" Boyi shouted, hands flying up in panic.
Linyue's lips twitched as she murmured, "Perfect timing."
Song Meiyu gasped, clutching the snack pouch.
He Yuying's entire life flashed before his eyes as he froze mid-kick, his leg awkwardly suspended in the air, one arm flailing for balance. Eyes wide with terror and regret, then he blurted out, "I can explain!" His voice cracked as his dignity slowly slipped away with gravity.
Shen Zhenyu turned away and raised a sleeve to his face. His shoulders trembled.
He Yuying slowly lowered his leg back to the ground. "I was just…" he began, "testing the gate's durability. Yes. Durability. What if a… rat came charging through? It would be a disaster."
Boyi, still half-hidden behind the gate, blinked at him. "Weren't you just trying to kick your way in?" His voice dripped with disbelief and fatigue.
The other three suddenly found the sky very interesting. Clouds. So many clouds. Possibly the most fascinating clouds they had ever seen.
He Yuying turned to Song Meiyu with wide, accusing eyes—pure betrayal radiating from his very soul. Song Meiyu, holding the stolen precious snack pouch like a shield, promptly whistled and stared off into the middle distance, pretending she had never met this man in her life.
Boyi stood frozen, hand still on the wood, blinking at the quartet of chaos assembled before him. His expression hovered between confusion and deep spiritual exhaustion.
"What are you all doing here?" he asked at last, though he already regretted it.
The four answered at the same time, in a perfect chorus of misalignment.
Linyue: "Following the wind."
Song Meiyu: "Noble mission."
Shen Zhenyu: "Peacekeeping."
He Yuying: "Garlic."
Silence.
Then they all looked at one another.
Linyue, perfectly serious, offered a smooth explanation, "We're here for the noble mission of researching garlic for peacekeeping… by following the wind."
The other three nodded like this made perfect sense.
Boyi stared at them, lips parted slightly as his brain tried to reboot.
"...Does the Lord know?" he asked at last, clinging to one last strand of logic.
Linyue tilted her head. "Didn't he send people to follow us anyway?"
Boyi stiffened. "Eh... how do you know?"
She raised a delicate eyebrow. "Isn't it obvious? Are they even trying to hide?"
Shen Zhenyu gave a quiet, knowing nod.
Song Meiyu added cheerfully, "I saw them once eating steamed buns behind a tree. One of them waved at me."
He Yuying nodded. "Yeah. The buns looked good."
Boyi opened his mouth. Words refused to come out. In the end, he simply stepped aside and gestured weakly for them to enter—because really, how do you argue with garlic-powered, peacekeeping wind chasers?
As the gate creaked open, Linyue declared proudly, "See? My ability to talk nonsense has really improved."
Shen Zhenyu gave a slow, amused smile. "Indeed."
Song Meiyu grinned wide, bouncing on her toes. "It works every time!"
He Yuying said seriously. "If talking nonsense means getting us through locked gates, then I say keep it up."
Linyue's chest puffed out a little as they stepped inside. Clearly, nonsense was working just fine.
The four cultivators passed through the creaky border gate, their footsteps echoing faintly on the packed dirt road. And the village that greeted them was… not great.