33. Love, Fireworks, The Discovery of a Body

For the next two days, Chen Shang wandered leisurely around the Kunlun District, taking in the sights and picking up local souvenirs for Nayuta. In an effort to boost tourism, the central area of Kunlun had been refurbished in a classical style—blue-tiled roofs and brick walls, fortune-telling stalls, and shops selling jade and curios everywhere, creating the illusion of an endless ancient market street.

The hundred or so sects of Kunlun had each opened their own tourist attractions, with burly members standing at the entrances, inviting visitors inside with seemingly friendly smiles. In truth, most of these sect-run sites existed to fleece tourists. Once inside, guests would be coaxed, cajoled, and pressured into spending until they were stripped clean of their money, only then allowed to leave.

There was no tourism regulatory bureau in Kunlun; the police turned a blind eye to such practices, and most travelers could only swallow their losses in silence.

“He refused my invitation just to come here and wander alone?” After three days of tailing him, Chiyo Yasougi looked exhausted, scoffing disdainfully. “Does this filthy place compare to the central district?”

Despite the approach of autumn, the weather in Nightpivot City remained stiflingly hot. Chiyo shed her leather jacket, wiped the sweat from her brow, and pondered why she was wasting her time here at all.

“Have an ice pop.” Suddenly, someone pressed a cold, elongated packet into her hand.

Chiyo spun around warily, nearly drawing the sword hidden in her gym bag.

Chen Shang had somehow appeared behind her, a popsicle in his mouth, greeting her nonchalantly.

“When did you…” Chiyo was so startled she nearly dropped the treat.

“I just happened to spot you,” Chen Shang replied with an easy smile. “Who’d have thought Lady Yasougi would visit a commoners’ tourist spot like this?”

“Hmph…” Chiyo snorted, turning away. “I’m only here for a mission.”

“A mission? What sort of mission?” Chen Shang asked, curious.

“That’s none of your concern.” Chiyo deflected, stubborn as ever. After a moment’s hesitation, she shoved the popsicle back at him.

“I don’t eat childish things like that.”

With a frown, she strode off quickly, as if fleeing from something.

Watching Chiyo’s hasty departure, Chen Shang popped the second ice pop into his mouth and continued on to the next tourist attraction.

“How did he spot me…”

Once she’d put some distance between herself and Chen Shang, Chiyo discreetly pulled out her phone to check her location on the map.

“Did he plant a tracker on me too? Impossible… I checked carefully.”

Lost in thought, her phone chimed—a text from Chen Shang appeared.

“There's a fireworks show tonight, would you like to join me?” He’d attached an address, apparently near the headquarters of the Confucian Sect.

“No time.” Chiyo replied curtly, then switched off her phone.

“Ridiculous. I actually followed him here…” Chiyo shook her head in frustration, feeling foolish about her actions over the past few days.

The man was certainly mysterious and deeply intriguing. Yet, she was the heiress of a powerful conglomerate, the top authority of Tokugawa Corp.

With such responsibilities weighing on her shoulders, she shouldn’t be wasting so much time on a civilian man.

“Enough. I’ll leave tomorrow. I’ll have to write a report to the family explaining my absence when I return.”

…

Despite berating herself inwardly, Chiyo still found herself at the location Chen Shang had sent as night fell.

Parts of Kunlun District were mountainous, dominated by three famous peaks. In early days, the Confucian, Taoist, and Buddhist sects had each claimed one, ruling from their respective mountains.

The fireworks show was to be held in the plaza beside “Master’s Mountain,” the stronghold of the Confucian Sect. At the plaza’s center stood a bronze statue of a six-armed scholar in a Confucian cap and plain robes, apparently commemorating the sect’s founding sage.

The plaza bordered a river, and the fireworks would be launched from the opposite bank.

Known for their programming and mechanical arts, the Confucian Sect produced not only weapons but also all manner of eccentric technological gadgets. For example, the fireworks used in the show had been invented by one of their disciples. Through a special program, the fireworks would ascend and form various patterns and symbols in the sky, rather than simply bursting.

As one of Kunlun’s “Three Great Houses,” the Confucian Sect never hesitated to promote itself. During every tourist season, they hosted fireworks displays to enhance their reputation.

Less than five minutes remained before the show. Chiyo raised her phone, scanning the crowd for Chen Shang.

“Strange… he’s not here?” She checked the tracker’s feed and was surprised.

The location showed Chen Shang not in the plaza, but across the river.

“That’s where the fireworks are being launched.” Chiyo paused. “Why would he be over there?”

A cheer rippled through the crowd as the fireworks began.

The sound of shells launching echoed nearby; a spark shot into the sky and exploded.

The glowing burst formed a pattern—a square QR code. The plaza’s loudspeakers blared:

“Scan to follow the Confucian Sect’s official account and claim amazing prizes…”

Though everyone knew it was a marketing ploy, curiosity got the better of many. They raised their phones to scan the code in the sky.

Then, a scream rang out from somewhere in the crowd:

“A severed head! There’s a head in the fireworks!”

Soon, more and more tourists scanning and photographing the sky began to shout:

“There’s a severed hand flying up there!”

“Blood!”

Driven by curiosity, Chiyo activated her phone’s high-definition camera mode.

Sure enough, amidst the dazzling fireworks, several dark shapes drifted.

Zooming in, she saw that the dark spots were mangled body parts, likely carried aloft by the fireworks’ shells.

Judging by the victims’ clothing, they appeared to be disciples of the Confucian Sect.

More and more shells soared skyward, bursting into brilliant patterns. The night sky grew increasingly eerie.

With each volley, more dark shapes were launched and fell, blood spraying through the air—visible even without the camera.

At first, many tourists believed it was part of the show. But when a scorched leg landed amid the crowd, they realized this was no special effect.

Shrill screams erupted; people fled in panic and chaos engulfed the plaza.

“What happened at the launch site?” A flicker of unease crossed Chiyo’s mind.

Even if they wanted to stage a shocking spectacle, the Confucian Sect would never strap their own disciples to fireworks and blast them skyward.

Something serious had happened at the launch site—and Chen Shang appeared to be there.

“Damn…” Chiyo gritted her teeth, trying to figure out the fastest way to investigate.

The bridge across the river was some distance from the plaza, requiring a winding detour; that would cost valuable time, and she’d probably arrive too late.

Chiyo snorted softly, vaulted over the railing, and leapt straight into the river.