Chapter Eight: Outsmarting the Stalker

Jiang Yu’s hand was warm and strong, instilling in Qu Wanqing an immense sense of security.

“I feel like someone is following us,” Qu Wanqing whispered, her tone grave.

Jiang Yu nodded slightly, his gaze sweeping the surroundings until it locked onto a furtive figure lurking nearby.

“Madam, we should leave here first,” he said quietly.

Without a hint of emotion, the two rose and bid farewell to the heroic Li. Qu Wanqing even warmly invited Li to visit the Marquis’s residence next time, skillfully masking her inner tension.

Li readily agreed, completely unaware of the subtle unease between them.

After leaving the temple fair, Qu Wanqing and Jiang Yu deliberately slipped into a secluded alley.

As expected, their pursuer took the bait and followed closely behind.

Tall walls flanked the narrow lane, shrouded in dim light and heavy with dampness.

Qu Wanqing’s heartbeat quickened, yet she forced herself to stay calm, walking at a measured pace as if nothing was amiss.

“Madam, don’t worry. I’ve got this,” Jiang Yu whispered reassuringly, his voice firm and unwavering.

His hand gripped hers tightly, as if transmitting strength.

They turned into an even narrower alleyway.

The footsteps behind grew louder, the pursuer’s heavy breathing audible now.

The tension was palpable, like a taut string ready to snap at any moment.

At a corner, Qu Wanqing suddenly halted.

“Wait,” she murmured, “it seems something has fallen.”

Feigning a bend to search, she swiftly slipped a piece of broken silver from her sleeve and quietly dropped it to the ground.

Almost simultaneously, Jiang Yu quickened his pace, footsteps echoing through the confined space, successfully drawing the follower’s attention.

The pursuer took the bait without hesitation, chasing after Jiang Yu’s retreating footsteps.

Silence fell over the alley, save for the fading footsteps—like a dying death march.

“Got him!” Qu Wanqing’s lips curved into a sly smile as she stood and dusted off imaginary dirt from her clothes.

The two circled around and arrived at a bustling tavern called “Three Bowls and Beyond.”

Inside, the tavern buzzed with lively chatter as groups of wanderers gathered to share tales and gossip.

Behind the counter sat Zhang Lao, a lean old man whose sharp eyes scanned every newcomer with keen suspicion.

Noticing the unfamiliar faces of Qu Wanqing and Jiang Yu, Zhang’s vigilance intensified.

“Are you here for tea or a meal?” His tone was cold, tinged with scrutiny.

“Tea,” Qu Wanqing replied gracefully, moving to an empty table. Jiang Yu stood behind her, eyes alertly surveying the room.

Zhang Lao leisurely brewed two cups, placing them before Qu Wanqing, yet he lingered nearby, seemingly waiting for them to speak first.

“I’ve heard you’re well-informed, Boss Zhang. Might I inquire about something?” Qu Wanqing began cautiously, probing.

Zhang snorted but remained silent, casting a look that seemed to say, “Who do you take me for?”

Undeterred, Qu Wanqing smiled gently. “I heard recently a strange event occurred near Ghost Wailing Ridge—a millennium-old white fox was spotted...”

Her words immediately caught the attention of the tavern’s patrons; curious eyes turned toward her.

Zhang’s expression shifted subtly, a flicker of surprise crossing his gaze.

“You know about the white fox of Ghost Wailing Ridge?” Zhang finally spoke, his voice betraying a barely concealed urgency.

Qu Wanqing smiled mysteriously. “A little.”

She sipped her tea with practiced nonchalance, her eyes drifting to a fierce tiger painting hanging on the wall.

“Boss Zhang, this brushwork is sharp and lively, clearly from a master’s hand. Could it be the work of the contemporary painting saint Wu Daozi?”

Zhang’s previously stern face broke into a proud smile. “Madam has a discerning eye. This is indeed an authentic piece by Wu Daozi!” He stroked his beard, his gaze now filled with respect.

“Not only well-informed, Boss Zhang, but you also have exquisite taste—truly admirable,” Qu Wanqing praised, her compliment perfectly timed.

Zhang’s heart swelled with pleasure; his smile grew more genuine.

“You flatter me, Madam,” Zhang waved his hand modestly, his tone softened. “Ask whatever you wish. I speak freely to those I trust.”

Sensing the moment ripe, Qu Wanqing steered the conversation toward the conspiracy behind her second marriage crisis.

“I’ve heard the city has been unsettled lately. Rumors have been spread to tarnish my reputation. Boss Zhang, have you caught wind of this?”

Zhang pondered briefly before lowering his voice. “Madam, to be frank, there have indeed been rumors circulating about you. Some say you are the reincarnation of a demon and will bring disaster to the Marquis’s household...”

Feigning shock, Qu Wanqing replied, “Such nonsense! Who would spread such lies?”

Zhang shook his head. “I don’t know exactly, but they move like shadows, leaving no trace. The martial world calls them the ‘Shadowless Sect.’”

“The Shadowless Sect?” Qu Wanqing’s heart stirred; the name sounded vaguely familiar.

Jiang Yu spoke up at the right moment. “Madam, I once read in an ancient text about the Shadowless Sect. It’s a secretive organization specializing in assassination and intelligence. Their influence spans the entire martial world; even the court fears them.”

Qu Wanqing and Jiang Yu exchanged knowing glances, both realizing this Shadowless Sect was very likely the mastermind behind their troubles.

Buoyed by these clues, Qu Wanqing’s spirits lifted. She chatted a while longer with Zhang about martial world tales, lightening the tavern’s atmosphere.

Jiang Yu watched Qu Wanqing laughing with admiration and love shining in his eyes.

“Madam, shall we go?” Jiang Yu whispered.

Qu Wanqing nodded and rose to leave.

Just then, a nearby table’s conversation caught her attention.

“Have you heard? The white fox of Ghost Wailing Ridge has appeared again...”

“Is it true? Such a rare spirit beast, seen once in a millennium!”

“Shh! Keep your voice down, don’t let ‘them’ hear...”

Who were “they”?

A strong premonition rose within Qu Wanqing—perhaps there was some connection between the Shadowless Sect and the white fox of Ghost Wailing Ridge.

She glanced calmly at Jiang Yu; their eyes met, and everything was understood without words.

“Wait,” Qu Wanqing suddenly stopped, turning back to Zhang. “Boss Zhang, there’s one more thing I want to inquire about...”