Lan Wangji finally turned his head, though his gaze remained slightly averted. Noticing this, Wei Wuxian blinked mischievously, a playful urge rising within him. Just as he was about to tease Lan Wangji, a sudden shattering sound erupted from the table beside them.

Both men swiftly rose to their feet, their attention drawn to the source of the noise. Scattered across the floor lay the shattered remains of teacups and a teapot, their pristine white shards mingling with the spilled tea. Amidst this chaos, an evil-suppressing pouch lay, its surface pulsating ominously as if something inside was desperately trying to break free.

The pouch, though only the size of a palm, possessed extraordinary storage capabilities. Its inner and outer layers were intricately embroidered with complex incantations, reinforcing multiple layers of seals. Lan Wangji had originally sealed the severed arm within this pouch and placed it beneath the teacup on the table. Seeing it now in such an agitated state, he realized it was time for their nightly duet of "Rest."

Without their brief, nightly musical pacification, even the powerful containment of the evil-suppressing pouch would struggle to restrain the ghostly hand within.

Wei Wuxian reached for the bamboo flute at his waist, only to grasp at empty air. Turning his head, he saw that Lan Wangji already held the instrument in his hands. The Jade of Lan was bent over the flute, meticulously carving something into its surface with intense concentration. After a moment, he handed it back to Wei Wuxian.

Taking it back, Wei Wuxian examined the flute. The once rough details around the finger holes had been refined to an exquisite degree. Lan Wangji's craftsmanship had transformed the instrument into a work of art.

"Play it well," Lan Wangji said, his voice soft but firm.

Remembering their earlier duet in the underground chamber—a cacophonous performance that had jolted Lan Qiren from his unconscious state only to make him cough blood and faint again—Wei Wuxian nearly doubled over with laughter. He thought to himself, "It's a wonder he's tolerated my playing for so long."

Composing himself, Wei Wuxian brought the flute to his lips with an air of exaggerated seriousness. However, he had barely played two notes when the evil-suppressing pouch suddenly expanded to several times its original size, standing upright as if possessed!

Wei Wuxian's next note faltered with a "pffft" sound. "What's this?" he exclaimed, "Has it grown so accustomed to my awful tunes that it can't appreciate when I play well?"

As if in response to his words, the evil-suppressing pouch suddenly lunged towards Wei Wuxian. Lan Wangji's fingers moved swiftly across his guqin strings, abruptly changing the melody. All seven strings vibrated simultaneously, emitting a thunderous roar that seemed to shake the very mountains. The pouch, repelled by the forceful sound, retreated to its original position.

Unfazed, Wei Wuxian resumed playing, while Lan Wangji softened his touch on the strings, seamlessly blending into the peaceful melody of "Rest." The haunting duet filled the air, its ethereal notes weaving a tapestry of tranquility.

As the final notes faded away, the evil-suppressing pouch finally shrunk back to its original size, lying motionless on the floor. Wei Wuxian tucked his flute away and remarked, "It's never been this agitated before. Something must have really stirred it up today."

Lan Wangji nodded slightly, then turned to face Wei Wuxian. "And," he said, his voice low and measured, "it's something on you."

Wei Wuxian immediately looked down at himself, scanning his body. The only new addition to his person today was the curse mark transferred from Jin Ling's body.

The curse mark on Jin Ling had been left in the stone fortress on Xinglu Ridge. The ghostly hand's strong reaction to this curse mark could only mean one thing...

"Are you saying," Wei Wuxian mused aloud, his mind racing, "that other parts of its body might be hidden within the walls of the Nie clan's Blade Hall?"

The following morning, the two set out together, retracing their steps back to Xinglu Ridge.

Nie Huaisang, having been caught red-handed the day before and forced to confess everything, had summoned his most trusted disciples overnight to clean up the mess left by the intruders. As Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji approached, Nie Huaisang had just finished overseeing the repair of the wall where Wei Wuxian had excavated Jin Ling. A new corpse had been sealed within, and the white bricks had been meticulously laid back in place. Nie Huaisang was wiping sweat from his brow when he turned and nearly stumbled at the sight of the approaching pair.

"Hanguang-Jun... and... you," he stammered, forcing a smile.

Wei Wuxian waved cheerfully. "Sect Leader Nie, busy with some masonry work, are we?"

Nie Huaisang dabbed at his forehead with a handkerchief, nearly rubbing the skin raw. "Yes, yes, indeed..."

Wei Wuxian adopted a sympathetic yet slightly sheepish expression. "I'm terribly sorry, but I'm afraid you might have to rebuild it once more after we're done."

Nie Huaisang's eyes widened in disbelief. "Yes, yes... Wait, what?!"

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Before he could protest further, Bichen was unsheathed. Nie Huaisang watched in horror as the newly repaired brick wall began to crack and crumble once more.

Destruction, as always, proved far swifter than construction. Wei Wuxian's demolition skills far surpassed the speed at which the wall had been rebuilt. Nie Huaisang clutched his fan, trembling, his eyes brimming with tears of frustration. Yet with Hanguang-Jun standing silently nearby, he dared not voice his objections. Lan Wangji briefly explained their reasoning to him, and Nie Huaisang immediately began swearing his innocence.

"No, absolutely not!" he protested vehemently. "All the corpses used in our family's Blade Hall are complete, with all limbs intact. There are definitely no male corpses missing an arm. If you don't believe me, I'll help you tear down the bricks myself to prove my innocence. But please, we must rebuild it immediately afterward. This is my family's ancestral tomb, after all..."

With several Nie clan disciples joining the effort, Wei Wuxian stepped back to observe the results. Half an hour later, most of the bricks from the wall where Jin Ling had been buried were removed. Some disciples had donned masks, while others had swallowed secret red pills to prevent the corpses from reanimating due to human qi.

In the exposed black soil, pale hands, feet with bulging veins, and tangled, dirt-caked black hair occasionally came into view. Each male corpse was roughly cleaned and laid out on the ground. The bodies were in various states of decomposition—some reduced to white bones, others in the process of decay, and some still eerily fresh. Yet, despite their diversity, all were complete, with four limbs intact. Not a single male corpse was missing its left arm.

Nie Huaisang cautiously ventured, "Surely this wall is enough? We don't need to tear down any more, right?"

Indeed, it seemed sufficient. The curse mark on Jin Ling had been exceptionally dark, suggesting that whatever left it must have been buried close to him, certainly within the confines of this wall. Wei Wuxian crouched beside the row of corpses, deep in thought. After a moment of contemplation, Lan Wangji suggested, "Should we bring out the evil-suppressing pouch?"

Retrieving the severed left arm from the pouch and allowing it to identify its own body parts seemed like a viable option. However, if it came too close to the other parts of its corpse, there was a risk of inciting its excitement and potentially triggering a more dangerous situation. The location itself was already highly precarious, heavy with yin energy, multiplying the level of danger. This was precisely why they had chosen to come during daylight hours. Wei Wuxian shook his head, pondering aloud, "Could it be that this arm doesn't belong to a man? No, that's impossible. I can easily distinguish between a man's hand and a woman's... Unless its owner had three arms?!"

Just as he was amused by his own absurd thought, Lan Wangji spoke again: "Legs."

Prompted by Lan Wangji's suggestion, Wei Wuxian suddenly realized he had overlooked a crucial detail—the curse mark had only affected Jin Ling's legs. "Take off their pants!" he exclaimed. "We need to remove their pants!"

Nie Huaisang recoiled in shock. "How can you say such shameful things in front of Hanguang-Jun?!"

Wei Wuxian dismissed his concern. "What's so shameful about it? We're all men here. Come on, help us remove the trousers from the male corpses. We don't need to bother with any female ones, just the men!" He reached towards the waistband of the nearest corpse, his hands poised to carry out his words.

Poor Nie Huaisang, who had only yesterday been forced to confess his deepest secrets, now found himself faced with the prospect of stripping male corpses in his ancestors' Blade Hall. He couldn't help but imagine the furious spirits of his Nie clan ancestors lining up to slap him into his next life as a deformed being. Tears welled up in his eyes at the thought.

Fortunately, Lan Wangji intercepted Wei Wuxian's movements. Just as Nie Huaisang was about to praise Hanguang-Jun's intervention, he heard the Jade of Lan say, "I'll do it."

Wei Wuxian looked at him in surprise. "You? You're really going to do this?"

Lan Wangji's brow twitched almost imperceptibly, as if he were suppressing some internal struggle. He repeated firmly, "Don't move. I'll handle it."

Of all the shocks Nie Huaisang had experienced that day, this moment topped them all.

Of course, Lan Wangji didn't actually start yanking off the corpses' trousers with his hands. Instead, he used Bichen's spiritual energy to delicately slice through the clothing, revealing the skin beneath. Some garments didn't even need cutting—they were already in tatters. After a brief moment, he announced, "Found it."

Everyone's attention immediately turned to the ground. Near Lan Wangji's white boots lay a corpse with faint circular marks on both thighs. The flesh-colored threads formed densely packed stitches. There was a subtle difference in skin tone above and below these circular marks. It was clear that the legs of this corpse did not originally belong to its upper body.

These legs had been sewn onto the body by someone!

Nie Huaisang stood slack-jawed in disbelief. Wei Wuxian turned to him and asked, "Who usually selects the corpses used for the Nie clan's blade spirits?"

Still dazed, Nie Huaisang replied, "Typically, each generation's clan leader chooses and stockpiles them during their lifetime. My older brother passed away early, so he hadn't collected enough. I helped select some for him... I just kept any corpses that had all their facial features and limbs intact. Beyond that, I really don't know..."

It was clearly pointless to ask Nie Huaisang who might have smuggled this particular corpse into the mix. The list of suspects was endless, from those who supplied the bodies to insiders within the Qinghe Nie clan. It seemed the only way to uncover the truth would be to find all the body parts, reassemble the corpse, and reunite it with its soul.

After painstakingly separating the legs from the half-corpse, Wei Wuxian began packing them into a new evil-suppressing pouch. As he worked, he commented to Lan Wangji, "It looks like our friend here was drawn and quartered. Not only dismembered but scattered all over the place, a piece here and a piece there. Someone must have held quite a grudge. Let's hope he wasn't cut into too many pieces."

Although Nie Huaisang bade them farewell with a customary "Until we meet again," the terror etched on his face suggested he hoped never to see them again in this lifetime. The pair left Xinglu Ridge and returned to their inn. Once in the safety of their room, they carefully laid out the three body parts for comparison.

As expected, the skin tone of the legs matched that of the severed left arm perfectly. Moreover, when placed in close proximity, the parts reacted strongly to each other, trembling as if trying to reconnite. Only the missing torso prevented them from joining. They undoubtedly belonged to the same person.

Beyond confirming that the body parts belonged to a tall man with long limbs, a robust physique, and considerable cultivation, they remained in the dark about his identity. The mystery deepened. Fortunately, the ghostly hand soon indicated the direction for their next step: southwest.

Following its guidance, Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji set out on the road to Yueyang.