Chapter 180: The Show Begins

Abe Lips looked at me, his eyebrows twitching slightly. “I didn’t expect it to be you.” Feng Wushuang came out from inside, pulling me aside and whispering about all the perverse things Abe Lips had done on the plane.

After listening, I narrowed my eyes at Abe Lips. “What’s your Japanese ass doing here?”

Abe Lips didn’t seem angered. He brushed the white dust off his suit. “You know why I’m here. There’s an old Chinese saying: ‘Debts must be repaid, and blood must be repaid with blood.’”

I understood—Abe Lips had come for Abe Merukawa. Ji Qianqian’s death had been caused by him. He had challenged our Ghost Sect, and I had crippled him. Now, I regretted not finishing him off and disposing of the body cleanly. That would have spared me all this trouble.

But there’s no medicine for regret.

And no wall is truly airtight.

Abe Lips had finally arrived.

I nodded with a smile. “I’ve been waiting for you. I was planning to go to Japan myself, but here you are. My lover died at the hands of your Abe family, and I’ve been longing for revenge. Abe Lips, I’ve regretted not killing you in the Golden Triangle so much it makes my guts twist.” My fists clenched so tightly they cracked, crisp and sharp, the blood in my veins surging so fiercely it felt like my heart would burst.

Ji Qianqian had already turned to ashes.

If a person wants to forget past pain, time is the only medicine—but the better cure is to face the agony head-on. If Abe Lips hadn’t appeared, if he hadn’t said these words, I might have thought I’d already forgotten all the pain.

But in truth, I hadn’t even begun to forget. Forgetting is an incredibly difficult thing. Lovers who parted years ago may think they’ve moved on, but standing alone in the wind, seeing a model on a billboard, they might suddenly break down in tears. But what’s lost can never return—no love can be relived.

Not until we’re buried in the grave, our bodies devoured clean by worms, will we finally forget. And even then, when our souls stand before the wheel of reincarnation, reborn as humans or creatures, we’ll still carry traces of memory.

If you become a butterfly, you’ll unconsciously land on your past lover’s shoulder. If you become a tree, you’ll stand by the road, waiting for him to shelter under your shade from rain or sun.

Or perhaps you’ll become a stone bridge, enduring five hundred years of wind and rain—all because forgetting is too hard.

Abe Lips looked at me and said, “If it weren’t for Dai Hao, I would’ve killed you in the Golden Triangle.”

I asked, “Are you sure about that?”

Abe Lips replied, “Don’t believe me?”

The air froze. People moved around us, but all I could hear was Abe Lips’ breathing. Everything else was deathly silent.

Abe Lips suddenly laughed. “Shall we fight here? I admit, you’re much stronger than you were a few months ago, and you have hate fueling you. But hatred is a double-edged sword—it gives you power, but it also shackles you.”

Everything has two sides, and hatred is no exception.

I suppressed my rage. “Now isn’t the time.”

Abe Lips said, “If you fight me now, I might die, but so will many others. Look who’s sitting over there.”

Slowly, I turned my gaze. On a chair sat Zuo Shan.

Zuo Shan exuded a man’s unique charm, even sporting a beard now, his Adam’s apple more prominent than half a year ago. Had Abe Lips really given him a new… organ? His aura was even more sinister now. He sat there with a box beside him—what could be inside?

I wasn’t sure. Next to Zuo Shan sat a young couple, married just two weeks, preparing to fly to Sanya for their honeymoon. They’d bought a cheaper afternoon flight to save money.

I surrendered. “Leave.”

Abe Lips said, “You’ll never win. Because you’re too soft-hearted. I can’t understand why our Abe Onmyōji clan has passed down the decree to defeat your Ghost Sect. You’re too weak—there’s no need to even fight you.”

He laughed loudly, the sound grating.

I didn’t understand either—why was I so soft? Maybe because two young lives weighed heavier in my heart than one dead Ji Qianqian.

I stayed silent.

Abe Lips sighed, disappointed. “Someone like you shouldn’t be a feng shui master. You should be Lei Feng.” Still, I said nothing. The announcement came on—passengers to Sanya, please proceed to Gate 1.

Abe Lips seemed tired of talking. “If you’re like this, there was no point in me coming to China. You’re too weak.”

I smiled. “You’ll never understand why I’m like this. Because you live only for yourself, while I don’t. There’s a power I possess that’s far stronger than hatred.”

Abe Lips showed a flicker of interest. “What power?”

I said, “Even if I told you, you wouldn’t get it.”

Abe Lips bit his lip. “Go find a way to save people, then.”

He kicked aside the flowers on the ground. Zuo Shan stood up from his chair, leaning on a crutch, walking strangely but not with much difficulty.

Dressed in a Thai monk’s robe, he bowed to me. “Sect Leader, long time no see. Zuo Shan has waited decades for what’s mine. You should focus on ordering a coffin—though you’ll find you won’t need it.”

My teeth clenched, fists trembling. But a voice inside me urged calm, reminding me not to let hatred steal my reason.

I forced a smile. “Zuo Shan. Elder Ye Wenxin asked me to tell you—she knows everything you’ve done. You’d better remember that.”

At the mention of Ye Wenxin’s name, Zuo Shan’s masculine aura wavered. “You’ve seen Ye Wenxin?”

I nodded. “Not only seen her—she even treated me to braised pork knuckle. She said, ‘Zuo Shan has betrayed his master and ancestors. I’ll deal with him.’”

Sweat beaded on Zuo Shan’s forehead. Abe Lips urged, “Master Zuo, enough talk. Only a duel is interesting.”

Zuo Shan snapped at him, “Shut up. You nearly got yourself killed fighting that earth-nourished corpse—you sound like you’re in a wuxia novel. If Ye Wenxin comes, we’re done for.”

Abe Lips crossed his arms. “Why do you say that?”

Zuo Shan shook his head. “Because she married well.”

With that, Zuo Shan limped away, Abe Lips following behind, their steps eerily synchronized—Abe Lips’ feet landing exactly where Zuo Shan’s had been.

Someone shouted, “Hey, old man! You forgot your box!”

I called out, “Don’t touch it—it’s for me.”

Feng Wushuang looked around, confused. “No hidden cameras? Are you guys filming *Urban Legends* or something? Even the sect leader’s here. What happened to Ji Qianqian?”

I rushed to the bench. The black box lay there, silent.

Closing my eyes, I tried sensing what was inside. What kind of insect could it be? Why couldn’t I feel anything?

Zuo Shan was a Jiangshi master—had he planted an insect curse inside? But why was there no movement at all?

Feng Wushuang noticed my sweating. “Why are you sweating so much in winter?”

She handed me a tissue. I sighed. “I don’t know what’s inside, so I’m worried.”

Feng Wushuang eyed the ordinary-looking box—airports saw countless like it every day. “You’re not saying there’s a bomb in there, are you?”

I shook my head. “If only it were a bomb. This is worse. I can’t sense what it is.”

Feng Wushuang gasped, stepping back. “Bio-weapons?”

I shook my head again. “Stand back. I’ll open it.”

She retreated, breathing fast.

The box was simple—no lock, just a latch.

But often, the simplest things are the most terrifying.

My hand trembled. Even the Blood Spider I’d swallowed had left traces of its presence. Was there something worse inside? I regretted not bringing the Jade Ruler—it could’ve helped.

Finally, I placed my hand on the box. Still no sensation.

Gritting my teeth, I flipped the latch.

Inside lay a stack of colorful DVDs—left by Zuo Shan, fresh from Japan, their “specialty.”

Feng Wushuang burst out laughing. “Are you filming a comedy?!”

Who’d have thought the legendary Zuo Shan would return from Japan with a box of… *this*?

Shen Yihu once told me a joke: police received a call about a sack under a bridge containing two bombs. After evacuating the area, they opened it—only to find a pair of kings and four twos.

I chuckled dryly. “Beauty Wushuang, your airport customs failed. How could such filth enter our harmonious society?”

…

After resolving Feng Wushuang’s issue, she was going to take the bus back, but since I’d driven my Wuling, she rode with me. A few flight attendants watched as Feng Wushuang, blue ribbon fluttering, climbed into the van.

One sighed, “A toad eating swan meat.”

Another added, “More like the swan willingly fed herself to the toad—no Prince Charming here.”

Feng Wushuang yanked the door open. “Qi Meiyan! Zheng Wanting! You little witches—watch your mouths! He’s my brother! My sister-in-law is ten thousand times prettier than me!”

The two long-legged attendants shut up.

Feng Wushuang slammed the door. “From now on, you’re my real brother.”

I smiled. “I’ll take you to meet your sister-in-law someday.”

A pang of sorrow hit me—having a sister would’ve been nice. I should’ve acknowledged her back in college, not waited till now.

As Feng Wushuang got out, she asked, “Earlier, I asked about Ji Qianqian. Did you break up, or…?”

I smiled bitterly. “She’s turned to dust, left this world.”

Back in the neighborhood, my parents and Uncle Datan were still chatting. Mom asked, “Did little sister become your girlfriend yet?”

I laughed. “This time, she really *is* my sister!”