When the morning mist seeped into Old Zhang’s main room alongside the creak of the bamboo door, Ye Fan’s heel had just crushed the accumulated dust on the threshold. Qín Wǎnshuāng’s fingertips still rested on the door latch. The wooden cabinet that Old Zhang called "self-opening" stood wide open, a smell of mildew mingling with the sourness of old paper pouring out. Pinned at the bottom of the cabinet was a half-rolled, yellowed contract, a golden-threaded embroidered centipede on its corner facing straight toward him.
"It’s a secret contract of the Nether Sect." Ye Fan squatted down, his fingertip brushing against the Cinnabar seal on the contract. In his past-life memories, the image of the Blood Soul Banner shrouded in black mist suddenly surged up. He heard Qín Wǎnshuāng’s skirt rustle softly behind him; as she leaned down, a silver hairpin in her hair brushed the back of his neck. "It says 'Twenty carts of dark iron, traded for the heads of the remnants of Hanmei Pavilion,' and the sign-off is... the private seal of the Zhao Estate?"
"Zhao Wuji provided dark iron to the Nether Sect in exchange for them dealing with Hanmei Pavilion." Ye Fan pressed his thumb against the words "Eldest Princess of Great Chu" on the contract, the texture as rough as sandpaper.
Chapter 94