Chapter 4 (1/2)
Part 1: The Drunken Cat and the Mortal Desire
Mu Wan was drunk.
Liu Qianxiu didn’t know her usual tolerance, but judging by the heavy scent of alcohol radiating from her, she had clearly had quite a bit. He had treated her wound that morning, and although the noon examination showed nothing serious, a fresh injury and alcohol did not mix. He had explicitly warned her about it.
Evidently, she hadn’t taken it to heart.
He lowered his gaze to look at her, said nothing, and took out his phone to make a call.
“The patient in bed thirteen is at Qingsong Pavilion. She’s drunk. I’m having someone send her back now—have someone meet them at the entrance. Once she’s back at the hospital, redo the wound care.”
As Liu Qianxiu spoke, his tone remained utterly even, as flat and steady as rainwater dripping from the eaves.
Mu Wan leaned against the wall and watched him finish the call in silence. He put his phone away and looked down at her. In his dark eyes, the corridor lights seemed to splinter into shattered fragments.
“Let’s go,” he said.
Mu Wan’s head felt heavy. She lifted her eyes to meet his, her voice still a little hoarse. “Every time you run into a patient outside the hospital, do you personally drag them back yourself?”
Even as she spoke, her head slowly tipped to one side, as if it had become too heavy for her neck to hold. Liu Qianxiu didn’t move. After a moment, Mu Wan regained her balance and straightened her head.
“This is a first.”
Mu Wan gave a soft little “Ah.” Her red lips parted, and the broken lights of the corridor scattered across her curved, smiling eyes.
“So I’m the first one. What if it happens again?”
The alcohol was taking fuller hold of her now. She was growing dizzier by the second. Her questions were ridiculous, and even her words were starting to blur.
“You’re drunk,” Liu Qianxiu said.
“I’m not drunk.” With the alcohol dulling the part of her brain meant for balance, Mu Wan swayed slightly but looked completely certain of herself. “I just… I just haven’t revealed my original form yet.”
Liu Qianxiu listened to the drunken nonsense without any visible change in expression.
“Do you want to see… my original form?” Mu Wan asked, her eyes wide and round.
Then she smiled, a sly, mischievous glint flickering across her palm-sized face. She leaned forward and grabbed hold of his shirt, the rougher, stiffer linen brushing against her palm.
Something shifted in Liu Qianxiu’s gaze.
The corridor lights drew his features into deeper relief, but Mu Wan could no longer see him clearly. She let out a soft laugh, her warm breath fanning against the side of his neck. She tightened both arms, wrapping herself around his narrow, solid waist.
Her burning cheek pressed against the cool firmness of his chest. Comfortable at once, she narrowed her eyes with satisfaction, her voice turning soft and sweet.
“I’ve turned into… a cat.”
When Liu Qianxiu returned to the private room, Mei Yaozhi was sitting there playing a game on his phone.
Mei Yaozhi was exceptionally good-looking in a clean, youthful way—the classic young heartthrob type. He had large, expressive eyes and an easy boyishness that made him seem younger than his years. The moment he saw Liu Qianxiu return, he put away his phone and asked, “Where did you go?”
They had come to dinner together. Earlier, Liu Qianxiu had only said he needed to step out for a moment. That “moment” had taken quite a while.
“I ran into a patient,” Liu Qianxiu said after sitting down. “I sent her back to the hospital.”
For a second, Mei Yaozhi thought he had misheard.
He looked at Liu Qianxiu, who wore the same cool, detached expression as always. Twirling a bamboo chopstick between his fingers, Mei Yaozhi asked, “A female patient?”
“Mm,” Liu Qianxiu replied lightly.
“Wow.”
Mei Yaozhi was genuinely stunned. Liu Qianxiu had actually escorted a female patient back to the hospital on his own time? Had an immortal finally descended to the mortal realm?
“Was she pretty?” Mei Yaozhi asked, unable to help himself.
Liu Qianxiu lifted his eyes and looked at him.
The gaze was calm, but Mei Yaozhi instinctively shrank back in his chair. They were cousins, of the same generation, but whether it was because Liu Qianxiu practiced Daoism or simply because of his innate temperament, being around him always made Mei Yaozhi feel as though he were in the presence of an elder.
In reality, Liu Qianxiu was only two years older than him.
Knowing that look meant don’t press it, Mei Yaozhi smoothly changed the subject.
“You’re going to Mount Qingyuan tomorrow?”
Every month, Liu Qianxiu set aside four days to go into retreat at Qingyuan Temple on Mount Qingyuan, usually toward the end of the month. This time, he was going earlier because the third anniversary of his grandfather’s death—the former head of the Liu family—was approaching. A major third-year memorial for a prestigious clan like the Lius would bring members of the entire extended lineage to Xia City to pay their respects. There would be plenty to handle.
“Mm,” Liu Qianxiu said. “Uncle Cai will arrive early for this year’s memorial.”
Cai Qingliang was the Liu family’s chief secretary. He mainly helped Liu Qianxiu consolidate reports from the family’s auction businesses and was usually based in Northern Europe, where the family’s global auction headquarters were located.
“There’s movement on Liu Qingyuan’s side?” Mei Yaozhi’s expression sharpened slightly.
“On the twelfth, an Austrian auction house sold a Song Dynasty bird-and-flower painting,” Liu Qianxiu said, his tone devoid of emotion. “After the transaction was completed, the buyer claimed it was a forgery.”
Mei Yaozhi gave a short, cynical laugh. “So they’ve finally made their move.”
A shadow settled briefly in Liu Qianxiu’s deep eyes. He set down his chopsticks, looked up at Mei Yaozhi, and said, “Help me look into someone.”
Mei Yaozhi was the second son of the Mei family. With an older brother above him, the burdens of the family never really fell on his shoulders. He lived easily and extravagantly. When he wasn’t at parties, he was out socializing with friends. He belonged to the top tier of Xia City’s second-generation heirs—one of Xia City’s Four Young Masters—and his network was vast.
“Who?” Mei Yaozhi asked.
“Mu Wan.”
Mei Yaozhi paused. “…The woman from tonight?”
“Mm.”
“…”
He and Liu Qianxiu were close, but Liu Qianxiu had always been cool and distant, even with him. Sometimes Mei Yaozhi had honestly wondered whether his cousin would go through life alone and one day ascend straight into immortality.
But tonight, he had first escorted a female patient back to the hospital, and now he was asking someone to look into her.
Could he really be developing mortal desires after all?
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