In the end, Ji Xunzhi did snatch the Wordless Heavenly Book back from Ling Wu.
After that, he dared not flaunt it again—especially not in front of her.
He smoothed the creases his grip had left, then tucked the book away with a form-seal.
Ling Wu hummed, winding and wheedling: “Skinflint.”
Watching him seal it away with naked longing, she admitted it to herself: she still wanted that Wordless Heavenly Book.
She turned the problem over and over—and hatched a plan.
From her storage bracelet she produced every storybook she had collected over the years, and under Ji Xunzhi's puzzled gaze, dug out the one she'd treasured longest.
It was her favorite. Whenever she ran dry of reading material, out it came for another round. All her other books were plain text; this one alone had illustrations, and annotations besides.
Back in the day, she'd puzzled over it a long time before grasping its true essence.
She held it out to Ji Xunzhi and said, word by word, with great gravity: “The Wordless Heavenly Book is rare indeed, but your junior sister's book has quite a pedigree too. The mortal who sold it to me said there were barely a dozen copies in the whole mortal realm—money couldn't buy one!”
“What are you playing at, Little Junior Sister?” Ji Xunzhi didn't take it. Nothing good ever came of this.
Sure enough, Ling Wu jerked her chin: “A trade. Don't refuse too fast, Eldest Senior Brother—your junior sister isn't stingy. Take it, look it over, and trade only if you're sure. If you read it and still don't want to, she won't press you.”
The speech was airtight, and it left Ji Xunzhi no graceful way to refuse.
He arched a brow, reached out, and took it—the moment his eyes touched the title, he froze.
Miss Li's Midnight Visit to the Scholar Zhang?
“Little Junior Sister... is this book proper?” he asked, doubtful.
“Of course!” Ling Wu nodded. “As the saying goes, 'in books are houses of gold; in books are beauties like jade.' Your junior sister has learned ever so much from it. Go on, read it—I promise you won't be able to look away.”
Ji Xunzhi was half in doubt—until he opened to the first page and his face went red.
Not just his face. His ears went redder still, as if he'd caught some fever. He snapped the book shut, then didn't know whether to throw it or hold it, the skin of his face twitching.
“Little Junior Sister, you—you—” Several syllables in a row, and not one full sentence made it out.
“Outrageous!” He closed his eyes and took a long while to press his feelings back down. “You have truly given me new eyes to see you with, Little Junior Sister.”
Ling Wu had been worried he'd hyperventilate—and now, hearing this, she took it as high praise for her powers of comprehension, and lit up.
“So Eldest Senior Brother also finds this book's learning deep and subtle?”
Ji Xunzhi shook his head. “This book is unfit for decent eyes.”
Ling Wu bristled: “What kind of talk is that! Unfit for eyes? It's dangerously good, is what it is!”
“I understand now—you can't make sense of it, can you? No hurry. Your junior sister read it many times before she understood. Let me read it aloud and explain it to my senior brother, slowly.” She put on her best lecturing manner, and before Ji Xunzhi could recover, reclaimed the book.
He moved to stop her—too late. She was already off and reading.
“In the side chamber, the red candle had burned to half its length, its light flickering, stretching the shadows of Scholar Zhang and Miss Li very long. Then Miss Li settled herself suddenly upon the scholar's knee, her eyes brimming with feeling...”
“She said: 'Zhang, my love, the night is deep—time for bed.' With a beauty in his arms, Scholar Zhang's heart bloomed; he cast his book aside at once, gathered Miss Li up in both arms, and carried her behind the red curtains...”
“The night was long, and the two of them were tinder meeting flame—none of their movements slow. She drew the pin from his hair; he slid the robe from her shoulders. Before long Miss Li was left in nothing at all. But the moment Scholar Zhang's eyes touched her body, white as jade, he pounced like a starving wolf upon its prey, pressing her down into the bed, bent on carrying her off to the Mount of Witches...”
“The room fell silent. Only Miss Li's sweet voice could be heard, rising again and again, drowning out every noise beyond the window—”
She never finished. Ji Xunzhi cut her off, his face by now the color of pork liver.
“Silence!” He snatched the storybook from her hands, his fingers squeezing tighter and tighter, knuckles white, wearing the look of a man who wanted nothing more than to burn the thing to ash.
“Eldest Senior Brother, I wasn't finished.” Ling Wu was put out—then reconsidered. Perhaps he'd understood it all and wanted to read the rest himself. So she pivoted: “Ah—you've already grasped the inner truth, and mean to unravel the remainder on your own?”
Ji Xunzhi said nothing.
Ling Wu rattled on: “Clearly Eldest Senior Brother's talent surpasses even your junior sister's—you only heard a little and learned it all. I read it for ages! Embarrassing to admit, but if Master didn't hate storybooks, I'd have asked him to look it over for me too!”
Ji Xunzhi's face cycled from green to white and back—a veritable rainbow.
“Little Junior Sister. From now on, tell your senior brother what you want to read and let him buy it. You are not to shop on your own again.” He couldn't bear to imagine Master's face if he ever saw such a thing.
The Little Junior Sister was simply a menace!
“Fine, fine.” The books Eldest Senior Brother bought were mostly tales of the strange and uncanny. Ling Wu liked those too—but measured against her own, they fell just short.
A beauty and a scholar off to the Mount of Witches together—now that was the immortal grade of literature!
“So—will Eldest Senior Brother trade or not?” Ling Wu gestured at the Wordless Heavenly Book.
Ji Xunzhi had by now fully recovered, though his face was still a sorry sight. He gave the book in his hands a look of pure distaste and refused: “Your book is too vulgar, Little Junior Sister. Your senior brother has no use for it.”
“Vulgar? Where is it vulgar!” Ling Wu cried injustice. “It has pictures! And annotations for the hard parts! Your Wordless Heavenly Book is a field of blank white—nothing at all! If you ask me, the trade would be me losing out!”
“In that case, best not to trade at all.”
Seeing he would never agree to her barter, Ling Wu lost interest. She held out her palm and demanded her storybook back.
Keep squeezing it like that and her book would be ruined.
It wasn't his book—of course it didn't hurt him!
But Ji Xunzhi showed not the slightest intention of returning it. Ling Wu, furious, moved to grab it.
Back and forth they tugged—and the book split clean in two.
Staring at the half still in her hands, Ling Wu nearly wept.
Her treasure, kept safe all these years—ruined, just like that! She was heartbroken, woe was her, woe!
Hateful Eldest Senior Brother! If he didn't want to trade, fine—but why wrestle her for a storybook? She'd told him it was hard to find—where was she supposed to get a new one now!
Losing it was like losing a dear friend. Grief washed over Ling Wu; she moved to stroke the ruined half tenderly, to tell it how dearly she had cherished it.
Ji Xunzhi didn't even leave her that. He whisked it away and declared, “I'll keep this safe for you, Little Junior Sister. I'll return it once it's mended,” and went home.
Ling Wu didn't believe a word of his kindness. That scoundrel simply wanted to sneak a read of the book—while refusing, of course, to pay the Wordless Heavenly Book for it. That was the whole trick.
Pity he was already out of earshot. She could curse all she liked; he'd never hear it. She let it go.