Chapter Twenty-Four: It Is Easy to Paint a Tiger's Skin, But Hard to Paint Its Bones

“Now that the fire has been extinguished, I must hurry on my way. Farewell, friends. May we meet again when mountains and rivers bring us together.” With that, Feng Zijin twisted her slender waist and was about to dash into the night.

“Stop!” Xiu Ji quickly stowed away his Qi-gathering pouch, still brimming with anger as he demanded, “You’re in such a rush to leave before things are clear—are you fleeing because you fear punishment?”

“You!” Feng Zijin spun around and glared at him fiercely, explaining with growing irritation, “You look noble enough, but why can’t you see reason? You didn’t see me kill anyone, nor did you witness me set the fire, so why insist on pinning these unfounded accusations on me? Is it only because I put you in your place earlier today?”

“Feng Zijin, what’s the point of all this talk—”

“Junior Brother!” Wushang tugged at Xiu Ji’s sleeve, signaling him to hold his tongue. He turned to Feng Zijin with a polite gesture and spoke calmly, “My junior’s temperament is indeed stubborn; once he’s decided something, it rarely changes. So your explanations won’t help. Moreover, when we chased the White Shadow out of town earlier, we did see you lingering near the archway. To say you have no suspicion at all is impossible.”

“Given that you have these two friends to vouch for you today, and since my brother and I are admittedly outmatched, we’ll let the matter rest for now. When we return to our sect, we will send someone to investigate thoroughly. If you truly are innocent, your name will be cleared; if you are guilty, the Hall of the Void will not stand idly by.”

After finishing, Wushang offered a courteous farewell to me and Ling Yan, then hurried off with his brother. Once their figures had vanished into the darkness, Ling Yan turned to Feng Zijin with puzzlement, “Today I saw you rushing back from the peach grove, clearly aware something was happening in Dayong Market. I find it curious—aren’t you going to explain?”

“Explain what?”

Feng Zijin replied carelessly, “If I tell you I can divine fate and foresee events, would you believe it?”

“No,” Ling Yan answered without hesitation. Her delicate face showed a hint of dissatisfaction, as if she found the explanation lacking.

“Would you care to try?” Feng Zijin smiled smugly, countering, “It’s simple—I only need to study your faces, and I’ll immediately know your fortune.”

He first fixed his lively phoenix eyes on Bai Mu, observing for a moment before shaking his head and sighing inexplicably.

Bai Mu, intrigued by Feng Zijin’s odd behavior, asked, “What did you see?”

Without answering, Feng Zijin turned his gaze to Ling Yan’s exquisite face. After a silent inspection, his jade-like face twitched before he grinned, “You two have two tasks ahead. First, you are searching for something vital, but its location is peculiar, and with your current abilities, retrieving it will be difficult. Second, you intend to heal someone, but I can tell you plainly: there is no hope this time, failure is certain.”

“Don’t ask how I know. The workings of heaven are not to be divulged lightly. Farewell.”

With no further words, Feng Zijin merely swayed in place and vanished from Dayong at a blink, disappearing into the mountains cloaked in night.

“Ling Yan, how does he know so much about our affairs?” Bai Mu stared after her, bewildered.

Ling Yan’s brows furrowed as she cautioned softly, “This Feng Zijin is no ordinary person, certainly not as simple as he appears. If we encounter him again, we must be doubly cautious.”

“Really?” Bai Mu asked incredulously, “He seems upright and righteous, a bit delicate in appearance, but his actions don’t seem villainous. During his fight with the Hall of the Void disciples, he clearly held back!”

“Can't people put on an act for us?”

Ling Yan rolled her eyes impatiently, “You’re full of clever strategies when dealing with enemies, but as for people, you’re as naive as a child. Can’t you see Feng Zijin’s air of righteousness is just a facade? When the barrier broke during his duel with Xiu Ji, I distinctly saw a trace of dark evil aura emerge from him, though it was quickly masked by his spirit jade.”

“In any case, we should be wary of him from now on. I suspect this incident may indeed be connected to him.”

“I still find that hard to believe,” Bai Mu muttered, troubled. Could Feng Zijin, who seemed so righteous, truly be a villain? It was a challenge to his worldview and everything he believed.

“Fine, whatever,” Ling Yan snapped, waving her arms. “Believe what you want. He’s gone now. Instead of wasting time pondering all this, we should find a place to rest—Dayong Market has burned down, so we’ll likely have to sleep in the wild again.”

Bai Mu grinned slyly, murmuring almost inaudibly, “Sleeping on a mountain is nothing, so long as I can walk beside you—through fire and storm, it’s like a gentle paradise…”

“What are you muttering?” Ling Yan glanced at him with suspicion, saw his embarrassment, and cleverly suggested, “Let’s check the market. Maybe we’ll find some clue about the calamity.”

Bai Mu thought it over and agreed; the plan made sense. The two packed their belongings and hurried toward the ruins of the devastated marketplace.

The scene before them was almost unbelievable: just hours ago, this secluded haven was encircled by flowing streams and verdant belts, but in an instant it had been reduced to ashes, beauty consumed by flame. The cruelest part was the innocent lives lost among the townsfolk.

This was an unparalleled disaster: since time immemorial, through all the turbulent ages of the Wilds, such a swift massacre of an entire village was exceedingly rare.