Chapter 34

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Chapter 34: Title

Hu Mei observed the howling crowd settling down and smiled, her lips curving like a painted bow. "I’m aboard a plane about to depart for Fusang. Since there’s still some time before takeoff, I thought I’d livestream and chat with you all."

"Can you guess my purpose for visiting Fusang?" Her crescent-moon eyes sparkled mischievously, igniting another wave of frenzied comments.

【Too adorable! Medic! I need emergency blood transfusion STAT! (。_。)】

【The divine festival! Are you covering it, Mei Mei?】

"This counts as official business. I’m not traveling alone—care to guess my companions?" She tilted her head playfully.

【Who?? Clues please QAQ】

【Good business trip! I couldn’t even get tickets TAT】

"One hint: a certain sword-wielding Taoist Priest, and someone blessed by fortune." Her camera angled subtly toward her seatmates.

【Fortune—Lucky Star’s been MIA for days! Σ( ° △°|||)︴】

【(⊙o⊙) Star? Mei Mei tell him Dad misses his outdoor streams!】

【Sword saint Taoist Priest Chen?】

【Taiyi Thirteen Sword master! (warning_emoji.jpg)】

【Pls be my hubby Daoist Priest Li! \\\\\\\\(^o^)/】

【Where’s Huixin? Meh, priests work too. Stop teasing!】

"See for yourselves." The camera briefly captured Li Canghai meditating nearby before snapping back.

"Caught that? Daoist Priest Li’s napping~"

【Sleeping beauty alert! I’d sell my soul for that seat!】

The lens then revealed Yang Xingyu stifling laughter at viewers calling Hu Mei "Mei Mei"—proof of the cross-dresser’s irresistible charm.

"Yang Ge here, joining this Fusang expedition." The seasoned outdoor streamer grinned.

【Star! Over here!】

Yang Xingyu sighed internally. Ever since becoming Crimson Fruit’s first consumer and gaining the "Lucky Star" moniker from Spiritual Network forums, his 1.9m frame felt more "Silverback" than celestial.

As Hu Mei reclaimed the camera, Yang texted Xu Li: [Cover’s blown. Opportunity served. Don’t screw up.]

At the Special Bureau, Xu Li frowned at his phone until crimson robes swept into the room.

"Lin Jing requested assistance." Ghost in Red inclined her head.

_Holy hell! Yang Ge arranged HER as my partner?_ Xu Li’s face froze mid-twildered grin.

"Senior! You shouldn’t trouble yourself—"

"Trouble?" Her vermilion sleeves whispered as she glided forward. "Since when does an ‘outsider’ mind formalities? Though ‘senior’ does improve upon ‘hey you’."

Xu Li nearly upended his chair scrambling to offer seating. "Please! We’re still on lunch break!"

"Thank you." The Ghost in Red moved gracefully to take her seat.

"Senior, would you care for refreshments? Do any of these appeal to you? Afternoon tea service will commence shortly." Xu Li’s voice betrayed his nervousness.

Whether due to his frequent encounters with unsightly spirits, the sight of this crimson apparition inexplicably quickened his pulse, stirring an unusual warmth within him.

Without the Ghost in Red’s presence, Xu Li feared the grotesque visages of specters would plague his nights with endless nightmares.

Unaware of the young man’s concealed turmoil, the ghostly woman found his flustered demeanor mildly entertaining. "There’s no need for apprehension."

"I’m perfectly composed," came Xu Li’s automatic denial.

The claim drew silent amusement from the ancient spirit. Centuries of spectral existence since her untimely demise had cultivated a matriarchal perspective toward mortal youths.

—Her solitary display of wrath within the derelict school grounds remained exceptional.

The Special Bureau’s subsequent discovery of mitigating circumstances softened their wariness toward this formidable Practitioner, preferring diplomacy over confrontation.

Zhongxia’s doctrine shone clear: open arms for allies, unyielding steel for foes.

As extraordinary individuals screening continued, Xu Li’s collaboration with the Ghost in Red merely commenced, coinciding with Yang Xingyu’s two-day absence.

Aboard the aircraft:

"Landing approaches. I’ll resume streaming from Fusang." With practiced ease, Hu Mei concluded her live broadcast.

Unlike Yang Xingyu’s fortuitous encounter during the Awakening of Spiritual Energy—when eastern purple energy had accompanied his Crimson Fruit enlightenment—Hu Mei’s metamorphosis occurred during slumber.

Exhausted from weekend streaming, the seventeen-year-old slept through Sunday’s dawn when capricious forces intervened.

Ears and tail manifested as she dreamed, painless transitions marking her evolution into a half-demon inheriting fragmented fox tribe memories.

Post-awakening panic led to Special Bureau intervention. Their agents, remarkably composed, simply requested registration.

For Hu Mei, cooperation promised normalcy—concealing vulpine traits enabling resumed education.

Days revealed unexpected realities: Bureau staff proved approachable; fellow extraordinary individuals radiated camaraderie.

Taoist Priest Chen’s group adopted paternal roles, particularly toward Hu Mei and thirteen-year-old Huixin. The Bureau mandated continued education despite supernatural upheavals—"Basic literacy won’t decipher cultivation techniques," officials insisted.

"Professors assign light workloads, it seems," Yang Xingyu remarked, watching Hu Mei stow her equipment.

"Light?" The half-demon’s chin lifted defiantly. "Nightly cultivation follows study sessions!"

"…Must you use that form, cross-dresser Mei Mei?" Yang Xingyu averted his gaze uncomfortably.

"What troubles your delicate sensibilities?" Though resuming her natural voice, Hu Mei maintained the illusionary feminine guise.

"Merely adjusting to teammates’ sudden gender shifts," the man coughed, stealing glances at unflappable Li Canghai.

Daoist Priest Li’s serene composure earned silent admiration—his equanimity undisturbed by the kitsune’s theatrics.

Li Canghai seemed to sense his gaze, opening his eyes with a faint trace of amusement in their depths. "Is something wrong?"

"Daoist Priest Li, don’t you think Hu Mei’s acting strange today?"

Hu Mei, wrapped in her illusionary disguise, flashed a radiant smile. "What do you think, Taoist Priest?"

This level of illusion could easily be seen through by concentrating spiritual energy in one’s eyes—a trivial feat for Li Canghai.

"Quite adorable," Li Canghai answered truthfully.

Yang Xingyu clutched his chest dramatically. "As a steel-headed man, I sometimes feel inadequate in my lack of eccentricity compared to you two."

"Hahaha! You’re absolutely ridiculous!" Hu Mei’s laughter rang out brightly.

Li Canghai wore an expression of tolerant resignation as he observed the pair.

Though barely older than Hu Mei and actually younger than Yang Xingyu, Li Canghai carried himself with such gravitas that the other two seemed like carefree youths by comparison.

Yang Xingyu and Hu Mei had only heard fragmented accounts of Li Canghai’s reputation—his formidable skills and scholarly brilliance overshadowed by his obsession with pursuing immortality. Had he been born in ancient times, he might have achieved legendary status akin to his ancestor, the Poet Immortal Li Bai.

The four-hour flight from Capital City to Tokyo, Fusang concluded with an unexpected reception. Crowds of Zhongxia expatriates and even curious Fusang locals gathered to glimpse the visiting extraordinary individuals.

Yang Xingyu finally grasped Lin Jing’s warning about maintaining appearances when he saw the welcoming committee. Li Canghai carried his regular long sword with quiet dignity, while Hu Mei’s pale pink palace outfit swirled as she gaped at foreign sights—the young girl’s first overseas trip filling her with wide-eyed wonder.

Though weapons were diplomatically discouraged, Li Canghai’s recent swordsmanship studies made the blade inseparable from him. Yang Xingyu scoffed internally at the notion of "safety" in Fusang—everyone knew this spirit-plagued nation’s obsession with the supernatural bred enough ghosts to make veterans shudder.

"That girl’s adorable! Who is she?"

"It’s Hu Mei! I’m her biggest fan—isn’t she heavenly?"

"I’m here for Daoist Priest Li! That face could launch ships! Gorgeous people really do flock together."

"Who’s the guy beside them?"

"That’s Yang Xingyu! Watched his outdoor livestreams—don’t let the flowery name fool you, he’s pure steel-headed man. Looks even buffer now!"

Yang Xingyu’s eye twitched at the commentary. Only long-time viewers would reference his "girly" name—a legacy from his poetry-loving mother who’d dreamed of a daughter. His name derived from her favorite verse: "East wind unveils countless blossoming trees, scattering stars like rain."

Twenty years of enduring the feminine name had forged Yang Xingyu’s muscular frame through relentless training—sculpted biceps, chiseled abs, and boxing-honed reflexes silenced childhood taunts. Early livestream viewers who mocked his name soon bowed to his skills, addressing him as "Daddy Yang."

When Fusang learned Zhongxia sent three extraordinary individuals, they scrambled to match the gesture despite limited resources. Their welcoming committee’s modest size starkly contrasted with Zhongxia’s lavish delegation—a silent testament to the nations’ differing fortunes.

They sent Abe Masanari, who immediately captivated massive public support. The Toyo no Mon family had abruptly decided yesterday to reclaim their ancestral surname, accompanied by revelations about inheriting the Yin-Yang Path from their forebears.

This marked Abe Masanari’s debut appearance at such an occasion. Camera flashes from surrounding journalists flickered incessantly, yet the Abe family heir maintained remarkable composure, swiftly adapting to the situation.

"I am Li Canghai."

The Taoist in deep blue robes trimmed with white extended his hand. Abe Masanari sensed the man’s gaze drifting momentarily to his right – where only he could perceive the spectral presence of ancestor Abe no Seimei, invisible to others.

"Hu Mei of the celestial fox tribe," she offered her hand with a smile.

"Yang Xingyu, extraordinary individual." Yang’s stern expression concealed inner turmoil. Any misstep here would etch itself into internet users’ collective memory, ensuring endless mockery through resurfaced clips of his painful past.

The Special Bureau’s classification distinguishing extraordinary individuals from Practitioners followed heated debates. Proposals to equate Western-style physical mutations with systematic cultivation had been rejected after input from Leng Xingwen, Ghost in Red, and Hui Xin. Their consensus deemed biological transformations fundamentally different from disciplined cultivation.

Revised definitions now required Practitioners to reach Tier One through orthodox Daoist, Buddhist, or similar cultivation techniques. Lower stages became the Innate Realm (ranks 1-9) and separate Innate Realm (rank 10).

With the divine festival commencing tomorrow, the group settled into Fusang’s designated high-rise hotel. Private rooms featured standard security protocols – sufficient given Zhongxia’s renowned protectiveness. Challenging this ancient civilization’s people would be unwise, given their legendary tendency to fiercely safeguard their own.

Hu Mei stretched across the bed, afternoon sunlight gilding her silhouette. At 3 PM, streaming seemed preferable to wasting golden hours indoors. Her vulpine grin revealed delicate canines as the floating camera activated.

"Early arrival means bonus streaming time!" she chirped, fluffy tail sweeping the bedsheet. The Spiritual Network exposure had exploded her followers beyond a million since her extraordinary status became known.

【Mei Mei! Tail pets please!!】

【Tail squad assemble!!!】

【Holy hell count me INNNN!】

Meanwhile, Yang Xingyu conversed with Abe Masanari in halting English – their formal discussions would require translators tomorrow, but tonight’s informal exchange needed no intermediaries.

Yang Xingyu’s conversational skills were decent enough to prevent awkward silences. If it were his academically challenged classmate Hu Mei, she’d likely only manage a "hello."

"So you’ve awakened your Bloodline Within too?" Yang Xingyu exclaimed in surprise. He had assumed the art of yin-yang resembled Leng Xingwen’s practices – something inherited through Family Lineage.

"The ancestor’s bloodline isn’t a privilege granted to all," Abe Masanari replied with a smile, his Onmyoji robes rustling as they sat cross-legged on the tatami.

The truth remained partially veiled. Lady Tamamo no Mae’s assistance in awakening his bloodline, the ancestor’s teachings of yin-yang arts – these secrets stayed guarded behind Abe Masanari’s composed expression.

"True enough," Yang Xingyu nodded thoughtfully, recalling Bai Ye from the Bai Family’s hundreds of members, where only the Bloodline Within him had stirred.

Producing his phone, Yang Xingyu tapped a game icon. "Play this?"

"I do." Abe Masanari blinked before revealing his own device displaying the same icon with Japanese text.

"Are your Shikigami like the game versions?" Yang Xingyu leaned forward eagerly.

After a contemplative pause, Abe Masanari answered, "I could summon the snow maiden."

"Fantastic! I’ve never seen a living Shikigami!" Yang Xingyu’s eyes sparkled as he focused intently on Abe Masanari’s movements.

The Onmyoji withdrew a Cypress Fan from his sleeve, tracing arcane patterns in the air. Yang Xingyu’s vision blurred with luminous trails of Spiritual Energy coalescing into a glowing talisman. A sudden chill gripped the room as crystalline light revealed a blue-and-white clad woman beside Abe Masanari – porcelain skin gleaming, eyes like frozen lakes softening only for her summoner.

An ethereal beauty, unmistakably otherworldly.

"She’s the snow maiden," Abe Masanari announced.

"Obviously." The digital counterpart’s chill paled before this living frost. Yang Xingyu circulated his meager spiritual energy against the cold, attention shifting to the unusually short Cypress Fan.

"Your fan reminds me of an acquaintance who’s never without his."

Abe Masanari’s smile deepened. "I’d welcome such a meeting."

"Perhaps fate will arrange it." Yang Xingyu’s response carried unspoken reservations about Leng Xingwen’s transient nature among them.

As the snow maiden began preparing tea with glacial grace, knuckles rapped sharply against the door.

"Hu Mei’s timing," Yang Xingyu sighed, rising to answer.

The cross-dresser posed dramatically in the doorway, camera crew in tow. "Oho? Company?" Hu Mei craned her neck curiously.

"Abe Masanari’s visiting. Live streaming again?"

"Boredom’s cruel mistress!" Hu Mei declared, phone tilting to frame them both. "What secrets are you trading?"

"Merely satisfying curiosity about yin-yang arts."

Hu Mei’s gaze dropped to her buzzing screen:

【Yin-yang magic?? NEED FOOTAGE!!!】

【Fusang Spiritual Network’s got clips – seen ’em!】

【Can Mei Mei join the live stream? We really want to watch!】

“They want to watch too and asked if I could keep streaming,” Hu Mei said hesitantly, glancing at Yang Xingyu for support.

Yang Xingyu rubbed his temples. “Fine, I’ll check if Abe Masanari agrees. If he refuses, you’ll have to turn off the live stream.”

“Deal!”

Yang Xingyu retreated into the room, shutting the door behind him.

After relaying the request to Abe Masanari, he scratched his neck awkwardly, aware this might overstep boundaries.

“Of course. If the young lady wishes to join, she’s welcome,” Abe Masanari replied warmly, his fondness for Tamamo no Mae—a fox spirit—extending to those connected to her.

“Ah, she’s not exactly a lady,” Yang Xingyu corrected, his eye twitching. “Hu Mei’s a guy. Definitely male.”

“A cross-dresser.”

The term didn’t translate cleanly into English, leaving Abe Masanari with the mangled interpretation: “a man devoted to feminine attire.” Yang Xingyu wondered if the nuance had been lost.

Hu Mei lingered outside until Yang Xingyu reopened the door.

“Come in.”

Abe Masanari’s curious gaze immediately settled on Hu Mei.

“Sorry for intruding.”

“He doesn’t speak Chinese,” Yang Xingyu muttered, closing the door.

“Miss—er, Mr. Hu Mei, pleased to meet you,” Abe Masanari fumbled, still bewildered by the charming “girl” before him.

“Hi there!” Hu Mei chirped brightly, though the words sounded like gibberish to her.

Her attention soon drifted to the ethereal young woman seated nearby, whose beauty held an inexplicable familiarity.

“That’s Abe Masanari’s shikigami—the snow maiden,” Yang Xingyu explained, taking a seat.

“Wow, snow maiden! You’re stunning!” Hu Mei beamed, settling beside her and offering a handshake.

The camera captured it all. As Hu Mei admired the snow maiden, the live stream erupted:

【I’d kill to be an Onmyoji! Surrounded by gorgeous spirits every day?!】

【This snow maiden rivals the one from the Night Parade of a Hundred Demons! How does Abe Masanari get all the beauty—both himself AND his shikigami?!】

【Y’all forgetting some shikigami are literal nightmare fuel?】

【What’s shikigami-brewed tea taste like? This guy’s vibe screams “Abe no Seimei reborn.” If Fusang’s gods are real, where’s my foxy legend?!】

The conversation flowed through Yang Xingyu’s translations, and two hours slipped by unnoticed.

“Dinner’s approaching. Let me host you,” Abe Masanari offered.

The banquet had been prearranged. With extraordinary individuals handled by specialized agencies, hosting duties fell to Abe Masanari.

Hu Mei wisely ended the live stream before entering the elevator. The meal proceeded in polite silence, both sides mindful of decorum.

Li Canghai paused upon spotting the trio, his eyes lingering on the snow maiden trailing Abe Masanari. So this was his shikigami.

Her aura radiated purity, devoid of the resentment clinging to Zhongxia’s ghosts—nothing like the chilling Ghost in Red.

“Daoist Priest Li! We were just about to fetch you,” Hu Mei greeted cheerfully.

"I figured the timing was about right, so I emerged."

"When did Daoist Priest Li pick up fortune-telling? You should read my fate next time," Yang Xingyu teased with mock sincerity, eyebrows arched.

Li Canghai offered Abe Masanari a cordial smile before addressing Yang Xingyu.

"Call it intuition. Believe it or not." With heightened cultivation came subtle premonitions about worldly matters—though hunger pangs hardly counted.

Abe Masanari studied the Daoist Priest. This man’s prowess eclipsed his own by leagues, and the foreigner’s instincts screamed this truth louder than any demonstration.

The evening’s Japanese delicacies drew curious glances from neighboring tables as the snow maiden maintained her silent vigil nearby. Abe showed no inclination to dismiss the spirit.

After the meal, Hu Mei swayed playfully. "Let’s explore the night market!"

"I’ll remain at the hotel," Li Canghai declared.

"Romancing your blade again, Priest?" Yang Xingyu waggled his brows. "That factory-made sword—can it truly hold secrets like Leng Xingwen claims?"

"We’ve both witnessed his blade’s aura. This isn’t some assembly-line trinket." The Daoist’s lips quirked. "Perhaps akin to those legendary spirit tools? Regardless, I’ll know its truth through communion."

Hu Mei draped herself over Yang Xingyu’s arm like living jewelry. "Shall we adventure without our sword-obsessed friend?"

"May your courtship flourish," Yang Xingyu chuckled, clapping Li Canghai’s shoulder. "I must admit curiosity about Leng’s tales myself."

The notion of perpetual sword-bonding stemmed from Leng Xingwen’s anecdote at yesterday’s gathering—how Sword Sect novices became inseparable from their blades.

Tokyo’s neon heartbeat pulsed through the night. Yang Xingyu now understood celebrity’s burden; Spiritual Network fame haunted every street corner. Their afternoon arrival still trended on Japan’s official Spiritual Network portal—denial proved futile in the smartphone era.

"You’re live-streaming this?" Yang Xingyu groaned.

"Shared adventures taste sweeter." Hu Mei activated her camera with impish glee, letting the lens trail their steps through snack-laden alleys despite full stomachs.

"That bridge breathes desolation," she murmured around a mouthful of takoyaki, eyeing the isolated arch where shadows outnumbered pedestrians.

[Fusang’s drowning in ghosts! That Bridge Princess drags victims to watery graves!]

[Substitutes? She’s pure malice! Government warns everyone off bridges till she’s caught.]

[Pathetic—a nation bullied by spirits.]

[Our homeland’s wraiths bite harder! Saw one shred steel like paper!]

[Mei & Xing are extraordinary! Scout the bridge?]

[Risk OUR champions for THEIR haunt? Let Fusang clean its own spectral mess!]

[Not like she’s guaranteed to appear…]

[Bridge Princess just roams. Shamans say she’s weak but slippery.]

[Govt lies through teeth! Remember when they called hauntings pranks? Now we’ve got Spiritual Energy Awakening!]

Hu Mei watched the lively chaos in the live stream, quickly finishing the food in her hands before turning to Yang Xingyu. "Brother Yang, what’s your take?"

"They’re quite passionate," Yang Xingyu replied, his own enthusiasm kindling. Being an outdoor streamer required courage, though facing an actual ghost – particularly one rumored to have claimed numerous victims in Japan – gave him pause. Stroking his chin, he considered the red-clad senior’s advice about his flames countering ghostly energy. "Let’s treat this as an adventure. We might not even…" His words trailed off as an ethereal figure materialized by the bridge.

"Is that the Bridge Princess?" Hu Mei adjusted her camera angle, capturing the distant silhouette for viewers. The shadowy form’s gender remained ambiguous, though its flowing garments suggested femininity. Nearby pedestrians scattered like autumn leaves before a storm, fleeing the lethal reputation preceding this spirit.

【Can’t see clearly from this distance.】

【Checked online images – resemblance is uncanny.】

【Mei Mei stay back! She drags men to watery graves!】

【Seduce? With your beauty, YOU’D seduce HER!】

【True! Better warn Brother Yang instead.】

【He’s safe – all women look alike to that cosmic-tier steel-headed straight man!】

【Remember when he gave his coat to that shivering girl and caught cold?】

【WHY NOT HUG HER???】

The chat erupted with anecdotes about Yang Xingyu’s legendary obliviousness, his fans flooding Hu Mei’s stream with cringe-worthy memories. The conversation spiraled until Hu Mei pointed urgently at a hooded figure approaching the bridge. "Brother Yang, that person’s ensnared!"

【Live exorcism???】

【RIP random dude.】

【How’s he a dude?】

【Bridge Princess only drowns men!】

【What if Mei Mei approaches?】

【Woman! Betting a banana!】

【Man! Japan’s full of cross-dressers – two cucumbers!】

【Ten bananas on woman! Win: luxury spa. Lose: nightshift docks.→_→】

【Madlad!】

Before the streamers could react, virtual gambling overtook the chat. Yang Xingyu already had his phone out, dialing Abe Masanari. After briefing the official, he instructed Hu Mei: "Cast cloaking illusions. Now."

"Uncertain if it’ll work on her," Hu Mei warned, weaving magic through delicate finger motions.

"Stealth approach then," Yang Xingyu shrugged. "Though technically not our jurisdiction…" His voice hardened. "But we can’t watch murder unfold."

Closing in, they witnessed the Bridge Princess gripping a entranced Japanese youth, his blissful expression grotesque against the danger. "Plan?" Hu Mei whispered.

"I’ll strike them apart. You extract the victim." Yang Xingyu visualized combat techniques. At this range, the ghost’s allure failed – perhaps her only trick was seduction. Small mercies; failure before thousands would be catastrophic.

Hu Mei nodded. Synchronized movements carried them forward. Yang Xingyu’s kick erupted in spiritual flames, severing the ghost’s grip as Hu Mei caught the stumbling youth.

Japan’s paranormal rules baffled Yang Xingyu. In Zhongxia, spirits hid from mortals. Here, ghosts flaunted their predation – "I’ll kill you openly" indeed. The Bridge Princess radiated unprecedented malice, her resentment thickening the air.

"Unhurt?" Hu Mei checked the dazed man, relieved Yang Xingyu’s intervention caused no collateral damage. Her concern softened as she knelt beside the survivor. "Any discomfort? Can you speak?"