"That was a close one." Lin Su stared at the wanted notice posted at the city gate. Though he spoke as if he'd narrowly escaped disaster, his face was alight with sly delight. It was obvious he hadn't held back at all.
The phantom in the Daoist robe raised a hand to his forehead.
He couldn't understand why he was still worrying about all this after he was dead.
"Anzhi, that man is a notorious schemer who's been famous for years. You were lucky to escape this time, but if you fall into his hands again, you'll be in for it. Surely it's enough that we learned from him that 'coming back from the dead' was just a trick. Why stir up more trouble?"
If all he wanted was to get away, Lin Su had plenty of ways to save his own life from Qi Shan. Literary Scholars didn't have the formidable physical strength of Martial Gall Warriors! And yet Lin Su had chosen the most offensive method of all—to profane the other man's only two sore spots with such a clumsy illusion.
"How is that 'stirring up more trouble'?" Lin Su lowered the brim of his hat. The veil draped down to hide his face, lending his voice a dreamlike, indistinct quality. "It's called 'nipping trouble in the bud,' so that if he ever runs into it, he won't be caught off guard."
The phantom in the Daoist robe laughed in exasperation. "Is he supposed to thank you, too?"
Lin Su ignored the resentment in his voice. "Didn't you notice? When the real Qi Shan appeared, the chief of the Qi faction had no defenses at all. If he was that vulnerable to a phantom made from his memories, what would happen if the real person showed up?"
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