flstandardbreds Chapter 181 Dangerous Situation on the Eve of the Finals
Chapter 181 Dangerous Situation on the Eve of the Finals
Chapter 181 Dangerous Situation on the Eve of the Finals
Dangerous situation on the eve of the final
As the carved window lattice sliced the last rays of twilight into tiny gold foil, Su Yunlan was placing seven white jade teacups upside down on a sandalwood tray.
The crackled glaze reflected the candlelight, casting spiderweb-like shadows on the wall.
She suddenly flicked her finger and lightly tapped the rim of the cup. The crisp sound of the jade striking the cup was mixed with a hint of hesitation, like the rustling of a venomous snake slithering through a pile of dead leaves.
&34; The seventh cup. &34; She sneered and used a silver needle to pry open the cloud pattern carving on the base of the teacup, revealing half of a blue-tailed scorpion's stinger stuck in the mortise and tenon joint.
A sudden gust of night wind carrying the smell of burning came in through the window, flipping the "Classic of Tea" on the desk to the chapter on "Nanzhao Gu Tea," the vermilion annotations on the yellowed pages still carrying a murderous aura.
Footsteps, deliberately kept quiet, came from under the corridor. Su Yunlan quickly put the poison needle into her spatial storage.
When the wooden door was knocked on for the third time, she was already sitting upright in an eight-immortal chair, cooking the newly harvested Mengding Dew. The white mist rising from the spout of the celadon teapot just happened to obscure the cold glint in her eyes.
"Mrs. Su, would you like some more silver thread charcoal?" The waiter stood by the door, holding a copper basin, his soap-scented cuffs stained with a few drops of scarlet.
Su Yunlan lowered her eyes to look at the back of his hand where the veins were bulging, where there was a fresh scratch mark—a crescent-shaped mark from the bite of the Nanzhao poisonous worm larva.
"Thank you for your trouble." She poured the tea into the cup and watched as fine oil bubbles suddenly rose to the surface of the amber-colored tea.
As the shop assistant bent down to tend to the charcoal brazier, she silently wrapped the silken threads from her sleeve around his ankle, and the bells tied to the ends of the threads hummed in the medicine cabinet in her spatial storage, a sound only she could hear.
As the drumbeat of the hour of Xu shattered the icicles on the eaves, Su Yunlan was grinding camphor incense with a jade pestle to neutralize the poison.
The carved door was suddenly flung open, and as the servant boy stumbled in, the oil paper package in his arms came undone, and several pieces of Junshan silver needle tea, stained with mud, fluttered onto the Persian carpet.
"They...they are in the Phoenix Tree..." The boy gestured, his face pale, with a ring of bruises from a black jade bracelet clearly visible on his neck.
Before he could finish speaking, the sound of a guqin, as sharp as tearing silk, suddenly came from outside the window. Su Yunlan's jade pendant at her waist immediately became hot – it was Xiao Yuhan who had intercepted the hidden stake in the southeast.
As the clapper struck for the second time at midnight, Su Yunlan steeped the last batch of tea leaves into the spiritual spring in her space.
The bronze water clock suddenly reversed, and the water gushing from the spring shimmered with starlight. The rinsed tea leaves unfurled in the moonlight, resembling the shape of a phoenix spreading its wings.
She picked up a piece of yellow Guanyin tea and examined it closely in the candlelight. The seeds of the heartbreak grass that were originally mixed in had turned into gold threads, and the fragrance of the tea exuded the refreshing coolness of snow lotus.
"I must thank you for your painstaking efforts." She chuckled softly at the void, and the black jade bracelet on her wrist suddenly shattered, the remains of the Gu worm being swallowed by the spiritual spring before they even hit the ground.
A muffled thud came from outside the window, followed by a heart-wrenching scream from Wu, the tea master—her natal Gu, which she had nurtured for ten years, was burning fiercely on the sycamore tree in the courtyard, its bluish-purple flames reflecting off the glazed tiles like phosphorescent lamps in a ghost market.
As the thin mist of dawn seeped through the window, Su Yunlan was packing the processed tea cakes into a sandalwood box.
The moment the last wisp of tea fragrance seeped into the mortise and tenon joints, the ice silk that had been silent all night suddenly stretched out on the antique shelf, playing the notes of the five notes.
She stroked the slightly vibrating silk strings, a sharp smile curving her lips—Xiao Yuhan's sword energy had already severed the killing formations outside the three dark alleys.
As the first rays of dawn pierced through the clouds, the crisp sound of a teacup falling to the ground echoed from the inn's top-tier room.
Tea Master Wu slumped down amidst the mess, clutching half a moldy tea cake, her gilded nail guards digging deep into her palms: "This is impossible... Last night it was clear..." The bronze mirror reflected her suddenly aged face, a strand of black hair at her temples visibly turning white.
Su Yunlan was leaning against the vermilion railing facing the street, casually fiddling with a sachet decorated with lotus patterns.
The steam from the wonton stall downstairs, carrying the aroma of pepper, wafted up, mingling with the unique cool fragrance of Lingquan tea, and brewing into a strangely calming aroma amidst the clanging of iron horses under the eaves.
As she gazed at the lanterns gradually lighting up at the end of the long street, she suddenly felt the stray hairs behind her ears being brushed by sword energy—three hundred paces away, on a ginkgo tree, Xiao Yuhan's black robe swept past the last withered leaf that refused to fall.
As dusk settled, the sound of the contestants' carriages rolling over the cobblestone road gradually grew louder.
Su Yunlan inserted the last silver hairpin inlaid with the antidote bead into her hair bun, and the bronze mirror suddenly reflected the cinnabar talisman paper falling outside the window.
She reached out and caught the still-warm talisman. The two characters "亥水" (Hai Water) carved on it with sword energy were slowly seeping into her palm lines—this was Xiao Yuhan's birth date and time, which he had copied from Judge Zhao's secret room.
As the watchman began to strike the gong for the hour of Xu (7-9 PM), Su Yunlan, who was preparing to head to the tea-tasting arena, suddenly stopped at the threshold.
She lowered her eyes to look at the peacock feather that had appeared on the stone steps at some unknown time. The dark patterns on its tail feathers meandered into the Nanzhao script "Soul Returns" in the twilight.
As the night wind carried the sound of a huqin from a distant tavern past her ears, the jade pendant at her waist suddenly vibrated three short times and one long time—it was Xiao Yuhan saying, "Don't be afraid."
The soul-suppressing bell on the eaves of the inn moved automatically without any wind, and Su Yunlan pulled the cloak that suddenly felt warm around her.
She gave the gilded box containing the Spirit Spring Tea one last check, her fingertips tracing the Big Dipper pattern carved with sword energy on the lid.
Familiar footsteps faintly echoed in the depths of twilight, their rhythm on the bluestone slabs gradually merging with the lingering warmth of the jade pendant, startling the last Soul-Chasing Gu hidden in the shadows of the brackets.
(Continued from above)
As Xiao Yuhan's dark cloak, carrying the scent of frost and dew, fell onto his shoulders, Su Yunlan was grinding the last half of a peacock feather into powder.
Dark purple phosphorescent powder burst open between the fingers, only to be gathered up by a warm palm that suddenly covered them, along with the afterimages of the Nanzhao script, and crushed into the twilight.
&34;Beware of the bone-corroding fragrance. &34;The man's deep voice brushed past my ear, and the sword-cut sleeve revealed a wrist bone wrapped in snow-white silk, the smell of blood mixed with ambergris was particularly scalding.
The wisps of hair on the back of Su Yunlan's neck were suddenly lifted by the night wind, revealing the pale blue scars left by the Gu worms last night—which were now dissipating into starlight at Xiao Yuhan's fingertips.
The sound of tiles shattering came from outside the courtyard wall. Su Yunlan was about to release the ice silk from her sleeve when Xiao Yuhan pressed his calloused thumb against her tiger's mouth.
His black iron wrist guard brushed against the black jade bracelet on her wrist, and surprisingly, the ashes left by the Soul-Chasing Gu condensed into a black lotus lantern, which swayed and floated towards the stable in the southeast corner.
Three hours ago, Judge Zhao's carriage axle was soaked in arsenic. Xiao Yuhan unfastened his sword and placed it on the rosewood tea table. The Kunlun jade tassel on the sword suddenly reflected the scene in the inn's kitchen—the lotus-shaped pastries prepared for the judges in the steamer were oozing indigo liquid. The shaman whom Wu had summoned with twenty years of her lifespan should be vomiting blood at the City God Temple right now.
Su Yunlan's fingertips traced the Big Dipper pattern on the tea table, and the spiritual spring water suddenly began to rotate counterclockwise in the celadon bowl.
Before the hexagram emerging from the water had fully formed, Xiao Yuhan, dipping his brush in the antidote powder, drew a continuous mountain pattern on the sandalwood: "When the water of Hai (亥) meets Xun (巽), there will be a torrential rain tomorrow at 34:34 PM."
The sound of the water clock suddenly became sluggish, and the tinkling bells on the eaves rang erratically.
Su Yunlan turned to check on the Spirit Spring Tea, but was grabbed by the waist by the Xuan Tie wrist guard.
Xiao Yuhan's chin brushed against the antidote bead on the silver hairpin in her hair. The sword energy caused the purple clay teapot on the Eight Treasures Pavilion to suddenly explode. The brain-eating Gu larvae hidden in the spout fell into the charcoal basin, bursting into greenish-blue sparks.
They even copied the fragments of the "Classic of Tea" to a great extent. Su Yunlan coldly unfolded the ancient book she had taken out of her space. Inside the yellowed "Roasted Tea" chapter was a piece of half-rotten peacock gall, which was pinned to a beam by Xiao Yuhan's sword sheath.
In the dust dispelled by the sword energy, a birth date and time written in Miao script were revealed—it was the original owner of Su Yunlan's body's destiny.
Xiao Yuhan suddenly pulled her into his arms, the scales of his armor making Su Yunlan's nose sting.
The rhythm of his heartbeat gradually overlapped with the ripples of the spiritual spring in the space, causing the ice silk bell hidden in her sleeve to ring out a clear and melodious sound.
The moment the sound of a heavy object falling into the well in the backyard came, the man's blood-stained lips brushed against her earlobe: "The puppeteer drowned in the moat."
As the fifth watch gong struck for the third time, Su Yunlan was applying cinnabar to the tea cake.
As the last stroke was made, golden threads resembling phoenix tails suddenly emerged from the crimson mark, pulverizing the puppet talisman mixed in with the tea leaves into powder.
Xiao Yuhan's sword suddenly hummed on its shelf, its blade reflecting Judge Zhao's action of stuffing a blood-red jade pendant into the bronze crane incense burner on the judges' table.
&34; Wu's Face-Changing Gu requires the nourishment of virgin blood. &34; Su Yunlan condensed the spiritual spring water into ice needles and pierced them into the ashes of the puppet talisman. The ashes then pieced together a map of the location of the rouge shop in the south of the city on Xuan paper.
She was suddenly enveloped in a dark cloak, and Xiao Yuhan's calloused hand covered her eyelashes. The warm scent of ambergris masked the sweet and pungent smell of the Soul-Chasing Gu.
As the morning mist drifted through the window lattice, the gilded box containing the Lingquan tea suddenly rippled.
The moment Su Yunlan's fingertips touched the Big Dipper pattern on the box lid, she was suddenly lifted into the air.
Xiao Yuhan's toes brushed past the mocking beast on the eaves of the inn, and the dewdrops swept down by his sword energy formed a sixty-four hexagram array in mid-air.
&34; The third judge's chair was made of boxwood. &34; He suddenly spoke as he leaped onto the vermilion archway of the tea-tasting arena, and bits of snow scraped off his armor scales fell into Su Yunlan's collar.
Thirty-six tea stoves in the room simultaneously emitted white steam, but they could not conceal the crimson surging within the bronze kettle in the southeast corner—it was the deadly Gu that had been nurtured for forty-nine days with the heart's blood of a shaman.
Just as the gongs and drums announced the start of the event, the last poisonous spider on the paulownia leaf was knocked off, and Su Yunlan's brocade shoes had just touched the blue brick floor.
Suddenly, the silver hairpin in her hair refracted the morning light into a rainbow of colors, causing a piece of blood jade pendant on the judges' panel to crack with a soft click.
Xiao Yuhan's sword energy, mixed with the coolness of the spiritual spring water, flowed over his ankles, freezing the restless Gu worms under the blue bricks into ice crystals.