60: Chapter 60 Grinding Ink Like Spring Rain

At ten o'clock in the morning, in the main hall on the first floor.

The rain outside had not abated, and there were very few pedestrians on the street.

The shutter door of the Funeral Shop was halfway open, letting in a few wisps of damp, chilly air.

Lin Ye sat at the Eight Immortals table, in front of him a set of vintage purple clay teaware he had scavenged from the Ghost Market.

On a small red-clay stove, a pot of mountain spring water was bubbling with fine bubbles, making a gurgling sound.

He took out the black token he had picked up last night on the Mingyue Cruise Ship from his system space.

The token was neither metal nor wood, cool to the touch. On the front was carved a waning blood moon, and on the back was a ferocious seal script character for "Sha".

On this [Yinshan Sect Secret Command Token], there faintly lingered an uncomfortable smell of earthy soil and rot.

"Husband, the array runes on this token form a linked mother-and-child voice transmission formation."

Leng Yue came out of the backyard kitchen carrying a plate of freshly made osmanthus cake.

She had changed into an elegant moon-white jacket, dampening her icy, noble sharp edge a bit, adding a touch of gentleness characteristic of a Jiangnan water town.

She set the plate on the table, her eyes falling on the black token as she softly analyzed:

"Last night on the cruise ship, you summoned heavenly thunder and shattered that corpse driver's altar. The aura on this child token has likely been noticed by the Yinshan Sect's mother token. They should already know that it was you who destroyed the Hundred Ghosts Soul-Devouring Formation they worked so hard to set up."

Lin Ye popped a grape into his mouth and sneered:

"So what if they noticed? Would those rats from the Yinshan Sect who hide in the shadows really dare to come to my Taiping Old Street out in the open? The people from The Ninth Bureau aren't push-overs."

Leng Yue shook her head slightly and sat down opposite Lin Ye.

"Sects that practice unorthodox dark arts act without any bottom line. Although Husband possesses the Nine Heavens Thunder Technique to protect yourself, open attacks are easy to dodge, but hidden arrows are hard to guard against."

She extended her jade-like finger and gently drew a circle in the water stain on the tabletop.

"What the Yinshan Sect excels at most is capturing souls, commanding ghosts, and Feng Shui curse-killing. They don't even need to show their faces; by setting up a killing formation a hundred miles away, they can strike unexpectedly. Husband needs to be extra cautious when going out these days."

Lin Ye picked up the freshly brewed hot tea, feeling the warmth radiating from the cup.

"Soldiers will be blocked by troops, and water countered by earth. Since this token has fallen into my hands, it serves as a clue. Once I sort out the matters at hand, sooner or later I'll follow this lead to wipe out these gutter rats all at once."

The rain outside grew heavier, cascading down from the eaves into streams of water that hit the bluestone pavement, splashing into tiny flowers of water.

"Wife."

Lin Ye set down his teacup, his gaze falling upon Leng Yue.

"Go fetch the Duan Inkstone from my study in the backyard, and bring a few sheets of fine Xuan paper as well. Since it's raining today and no one will disturb us, I'll teach you something."

Leng Yue's crimson eyes blinked in subtle surprise, then she nodded obediently and rose to walk toward the backyard.

Before long, she returned to the hall holding a quaintly carved Duan Inkstone and a stack of neatly cut Xuan paper.

Lin Ye pushed aside the clutter on the Eight Immortals table and laid out the Xuan paper.

"Your zombie clan has a long lifespan, living by absorbing the Yin energy of heaven and earth."

Lin Ye picked up a top-grade pine soot inkstick and handed it to Leng Yue.

"Over such long years, you should cultivate a hobby to nourish your heart and mind. In my branch of folk sorcery, drawing talismans is a deep form of cultivation. Today, I will teach you how to grind ink."

Leng Yue took the inkstick. Those hands, accustomed to holding bone blades and karmic fire, actually seemed a bit clumsy holding this featherlight inkstick.

Imitating the actions Lin Ye had demonstrated just now, she dripped a little clean water into the inkstone and stiffly began to grind with her wrist.

"No, your force is too stiff."

Lin Ye stood up and walked around behind Leng Yue.

He leaned down, wrapping his arms around Leng Yue's shoulders, his broad hand directly covering her jade hand that held the inkstick.

Lin Ye's chest pressed closely against Leng Yue's back.

That familiar and deadly cold scent of Manjusaka, mixed with the fragrance of the pine soot ink that had just been ground, lingered around their noses.

"'Grind ink like an invalid.' The key lies in being slow and even."

Lin Ye's voice, low and raspy, sounded right beside Leng Yue's ear.

The warm breath he exhaled as he spoke brushed across Leng Yue's pale, sensitive ear, giving her a gentle rush of goosebumps.

This hands-on teaching stripped away all blades and shadows, leaving behind only the purest physical contact.

The inkstick ground slowly and rhythmically against the surface of the inkstone.

The sound acted like a subtle catalyst, drawing the surrounding atmosphere into a deeply intimate tension.

Leng Yue's spine gradually relaxed, and her entire body weight rested against Lin Ye's chest.

In her deep crimson eyes, a misty glint of light shimmered.

Leng Yue's breathing was completely thrown off. She parted her red lips slightly:

"Husband."

"..."

"..."

"Did you catch that?"

After a full twenty to thirty minutes, the ink inside the inkstone had become jet-black like lacquer, radiating a captivating luster.

Only then did Lin Ye slowly stop, his voice tinged with suppressed raspiness.

Leng Yue didn't turn around; she merely rested the back of her head slowly against Lin Ye's shoulder.

She lightly bit her red lip, her voice as faint as gossamer, imbued with a delicate charm capable of softening even tempered steel.

"Husband's technique... This servant is slow-witted, so I fear Husband will need... to teach me a few more times."