Hot Hands Destroy Flowers

"Didn't you ever think of returning to the human world?" Wuchang Gui asked, his voice low, his eyes flashing wide. "We'll ride on the fastest horses…."

Horses are nothing to a man with Jise Gui's qinggong. He glides through the air, barely touching his toes to roof tiles or tree branches before he's up again. The wind blows away the scent of his cargo, but once he's got them on the boat, it rises up, an intoxicating miasma of powder and fear-sweat.

"You seduced me first!" he crows at one of the women, ready to harvest the tears from her peach-blossom cheek.

When Gu Xiang stamps her little foot and snatches his bounty, there's a part of him—beneath the rage—that's relieved. That crazy woman, Xisang Gui, can't be far off, and he knows what she would do to him for this.

"... drink the strongest wine…."

A pavilion, decorated for a celebration. All the other wedding guests—the ones who aren't in the red silk ring, that is—drink the wine served by the Boqing Si girls. Not him. He hasn't had a taste for wine since he drank the Meng Po Tang. Or perhaps it didn't excite him, even before?

He's seen too many ghosts indulge in liquor 'till their strength was a mockery, their ambitions in ashes. 'Till they weren't any better than the young masters rolling on the floor in front of him, stabbing their so-called friends. Jise Gui won't let himself be trapped that way.

He catches the eye of one of the meek little jiejies in red and white silk. Behind his fan, he licks his lips at her.

"... play with the prettiest ladies…."

What a joy! What a treat!

It might be on Zhao Jing's orders, but this fight is more play than work. Yan Gui's knives fly at his face—he knocks them aside with his fan. His feet are so quick that she can't follow him, even with her eyes. When he surges up and wraps his arms around her from behind, her gasps of panic are music to him.

She twists around to break away, and he lets her spin—only to catch her by the arm, directing her momentum until she slams onto a low cabinet. Her last remaining knife bites into the wood.

Jise Gui leans over her. "You didn't think to come to me for help?" How disappointing! Time to reassure her: even the scars on her face won't put him off.

"... and kill the cruelest enemies."

Xie Wang's entrance startles him out of his playful mood. Jise Gui rises and fans himself slowly, like a scholar at his ease.

Underneath, his mind whirs like a cicada. So, the boy doesn't know what his yifu had planned? A division like that is a tool they can use against the sect leader and his poisonous ward both.

He really must have been a scholar, before the Meng Po Tang, he's certain of it. He's always thinking, calculating, plotting his next moves.

It's just funny, watching Xie Wang and Xisang Gui.

"Such an abnormal taste, at such a young age. A madwoman like her could seduce you—"

"Good, good!" Jise Gui cried. Yes. He wanted all of that.