Category: Summoning the Soul

  • Summoning the Soul 20

    Chapter 20: Frost Fills the Courtyard (Part 1)

    Cai Chun Xu went to greet her parents-in-law early in the morning. Upon returning, she heard a maidservant’s report and immediately rushed to the west wing. As she entered, she saw the young woman packing her belongings.

    “Sister A-Xi,” Cai Chun Xu said, taking her hands, “if there’s anything you’re unhappy with, please tell me. Why are you leaving?”

    Ni Su smiled slightly. “Sister Cai, you’ve been nothing but kind to me.”

    “Then why are you leaving?” Cai Chun Xu asked, holding the teacup Ni Su offered but not drinking. “Are you still upset about what happened at the Yan Hui Pavilion?”

    Ni Su shook her head. “It’s not that I’m upset. It’s that Lady Sun’s words might have upset the other ladies in the poetry society.”

    “What does it matter? We gather to compose and appreciate poetry. If they mind, I simply won’t attend. It’s no big deal,” Cai Chun Xu said, pulling Ni Su closer. “Sister A-Xi, my grandfather, before becoming the governor of Zezhou, was a military supervisor in the north. I spent two years with him there when I was young. In the military camps, medics are highly respected by the soldiers. But here, in the inner chambers, your skills are considered a transgression simply because you’re a woman.”

    “But it’s not really their fault. For us women, our husband’s family is our world. I’m fortunate to have married into the Grand Commandant’s residence, where my parents-in-law aren’t overly strict. But it’s different for them. If you ask them, do they understand the reason? Do they know what ‘medicine women’ are? They might not even know. They simply follow their husbands’ opinions.”

    Ni Su smiled. “Sister Cai, you’re so understanding. No wonder the ladies in the Ru Qin Poetry Society like you so much.”

    “Do you have a heart of crystal?” Cai Chun Xu chuckled, then playfully scolded, “How do you know they all like me?”

    “Yesterday, at the Yan Hui Pavilion, as soon as I arrived, you were surrounded by ladies, and even the older women spoke to you kindly. Even Lady Sun, despite her disapproval of me being there, wouldn’t easily become your enemy.”

    “You’re the one with a heart of crystal. You understand them, and you understand me,” Ni Su said, holding her hand. “Compared to me, your relationship with them is more important. But in this matter, you didn’t follow their lead and look down on me. Because of our families’ past connection, you sided with me. But if you stop attending the poetry society, how many opportunities will you have to interact with them in the future?”

    Cai Chun Xu was taken aback.

    As Ni Su had said, she had left her hometown and married far away to Yun Jing. She didn’t get along with her sister-in-law. The only people she could confide in were the ladies in the Ru Qin Poetry Society.

    She now realized that Ni Su was leaving not just because of her, but also because of the other women in the poetry society.

    If she kept Ni Su here, how could those women continue to associate with her?

    “Sister A-Xi…” Cai Chun Xu still wanted her to stay, but she didn’t know what to say. “I really like you. You’re such a delicate young woman, yet you endured torture in the Guangning Prefecture Yamen and even the Yin Ye Si for your brother. I truly admire you.”

    “I also think you’re wonderful, Sister Cai,” Ni Su said with a smile.

    Before meeting Scholar He Zhong Ping, Ni Su had asked a broker to find her a house. She didn’t have many belongings and had planned to look at the house after saying goodbye to Cai Chun Xu. But Cai Chun Xu insisted she had a vacant shop and residence on Nan Huai Street.

    Ni Su was about to decline, but the mention of Nan Huai Street piqued her interest.

    Almost all the pharmacies and clinics in Yun Jing were located on Nan Huai Street.

    Cai Chun Xu didn’t want to accept any payment, but Ni Su insisted. Cai Chun Xu then had Yu Wen and some servants from the Grand Commandant’s residence help clean and furnish the house.

    Ni Su busied herself for most of the day, arranging the house to her liking. She even bought some fresh herbs and laid them out to dry in bamboo trays in the courtyard under the late summer sun.

    The scent of herbs filled the courtyard, bringing a sense of comfort to Ni Su in this unfamiliar city.

    As dusk approached, an Yin Ye Si officer who had been discreetly watching the house knocked on the door. Ni Su, without hesitation, immediately went to the Di Qian Gate.

    Zhou Ting, formerly the commander of the Ji Huo Battalion, had recently been promoted to Deputy Commander. He wore his new official uniform. Stepping out of the gate, he saw the young woman in a white dress.

    “Miss Ni, this morning, one of the transcribers from the winter examination came to the Yin Ye Si and confessed something,” Zhou Ting said, approaching her, his hand on the hilt of his sword.

    He only mentioned the transcriber’s position, not his name.

    “What did he confess?” Ni Su asked, although she already knew.

    “Your brother’s examination paper was switched.”

    “Switched with whose? Commander Zhou, have you found out?” Ni Su had barely slept last night, waiting for news from the Yin Ye Si. Since Jin Xiang Shi had confessed, the Yin Ye Si only needed to ask him about the essay, even just a few lines, and they could find the matching paper among the successful candidates.

    Zhou Ting shook his head. “With the transcriber’s testimony, Director Han personally reviewed the examination papers from the Imperial College, but he didn’t find the essay.”

    Not there?

    Ni Su found this hard to believe. “If the paper wasn’t switched for personal gain, then why…”

    “Director Han thinks the same,” Zhou Ting continued. “This winter examination was specifically held to select talent for the new policies. The Emperor initially intended to directly appoint the top three candidates without the palace examination. But the Censorate and the Bureau remonstrated, arguing that the palace examination was necessary to further assess the candidates’ abilities. After several petitions, the Emperor changed his mind just as the winter examination ended.”

    “The murderer knew that cheating in the palace examination would be difficult, so to cover their tracks, they ensured that my brother’s paper, and perhaps others’, were lost… and even resorted to murder,” Ni Su said, lowering her eyes. “So, the murderer isn’t one of the successful candidates, but one of the unsuccessful scholars.”

    Zhou Ting didn’t argue, only reminding her, “Miss Ni, Director Han allowed me to tell you this partly out of sympathy for your loss, and partly to ask you not to appeal to the Dengwen Drum Court.”

    “Why?”

    “The transcriber’s testimony seems useful, but… there’s something strange about him. He was terrified when he came to us. Director Han asked him why he hadn’t spoken up sooner. He said he saw a ghost couple last night, which reminded him of the incident.” Zhou Ting didn’t know how to explain it. He suddenly remembered her reason for being beaten at the Guangning Prefecture Yamen. She, too, seemed strange.

    “The Emperor is busy with state affairs. The Yin Ye Si can’t report to him without concrete evidence. And your injuries haven’t fully healed. If you appeal to the Dengwen Drum Court and are beaten again, you might not survive.”

    Zhou Ting looked at her pale face. “Don’t worry. We’ll continue to investigate.”

    “Thank you, Commander Zhou,” Ni Su said, still dazed.

    “There’s one more thing,” Zhou Ting said. “Our coroners have examined your brother’s body. I didn’t tell you before because of Yin Ye Si protocol. Now that we’ve investigated the suspicious points, you can take his body and give him a proper burial.”

    “What… what did they find?” Ni Su asked, looking up sharply.

    “Your brother had several old and new injuries, but none were fatal. However, he hadn’t eaten or drunk anything before his death,” Zhou Ting said, his voice softening under her intense gaze.

    Hadn’t eaten or drunk anything.

    The words pierced Ni Su like a knife, making her head spin. After a while, she whispered, “He… he starved to death?”

    Zhou Ting remained silent.

    The late summer sun was scorching, but Ni Su felt a bone-chilling cold. Ignoring the stares of passersby, she, like a wandering spirit, watched as Zhou Ting and his men helped her carry her brother’s body out of the city. By a quiet riverbank, she cremated his body.

    As the flames consumed her brother’s remains, she watched, finally breaking down into uncontrollable sobs.

    “Commander Zhou, go and comfort her,” one of the officers whispered, looking at the weeping woman.

    Zhou Ting’s jaw tightened. “I don’t know how to comfort people.”

    The officers searched their pockets and sleeves. A young officer scratched his head. “We’re not women. We don’t have handkerchiefs. We can’t use our sweat towels to wipe her tears, can we?”

    Zhou Ting glared at them, ignoring their chatter. He looked at the woman, his usually calm expression disturbed by her grief. He walked over to her, his tall figure shielding her from the harsh sunlight. “Miss Ni, the Yin Ye Si will not let this go unpunished. We’ll also continue to provide you with protection.”

    Ni Su covered her face, tears streaming through her fingers.

    The wind rustled the leaves in the trees.

    In the dappled shade, Xu He Xue silently watched as the Deputy Commander awkwardly tried to comfort the weeping woman.

    From dusk till nightfall, he watched as she, despite her grief, lit a lantern and, clutching an urn containing her brother’s ashes, walked on like a puppet.

    The fluffy, white light followed her closely. Zhou Ting and his men, keeping a discreet distance, didn’t see the lone spirit walking beside her.

    “You stay guard tonight. We’ll switch shifts in the morning,” Zhou Ting said to his men as they arrived at the shop on Nan Huai Street and watched Ni Su enter.

    “Yes, sir,” they replied, dispersing to find hiding places.

    The newly cleaned house was brightly lit. Ni Su placed the urn on an altar, behind two black lacquered memorial tablets.

    She had carved the names and applied the gold lacquer herself, sitting on the porch earlier that day.

    She lit incense and candles and knelt before the altar.

    Suddenly, someone walked over to her. His footsteps were light. Ni Su, her eyes downcast, saw his moon-like shadow and the hem of his robe.

    She looked up, her gaze rising to meet his face.

    Xu He Xue crouched down, placed the lantern he was carrying on the floor, unfolded an oil-paper package, and offered her a warm sweet cake.

    Every movement he made was graceful.

    Even the simple act of placing the lantern and opening the package was elegant.

    “Did you use your powers to buy this? Are you in pain?” Ni Su finally spoke, her voice hoarse from crying.

    She knew he must have gone to the night market several streets away and used his powers. Otherwise, the cake wouldn’t be so warm.

    Xu He Xue didn’t answer her question about the pain, only saying, “You’ve only had one meal today.”

    The lone candle flickered in the long night.

    Ni Su had no appetite, but she took the sweet cake and took a bite.

    Seeing Xu He Xue’s gaze fall on the book on the altar, she said, “My brother only treated one woman properly, but he consulted many midwives and medicine women and studied numerous medical texts. The day my father forced him to abandon medicine, he told me he would write down everything he knew about women’s ailments and teach me medicine. When I grew up, after I had treated women’s illnesses, I would share my knowledge with him.”

    It was meant to be a medical text on gynecology that she and her brother would complete together.

    “If he could have practiced medicine, he wouldn’t have gone to Yun Jing for the examination,” Ni Su said, her eyes welling up again, holding half-eaten sweet cake. “It wasn’t his aspiration, yet he died because of it.”

    In the candlelight, Xu He Xue saw tears rolling down her cheeks.

    “Ni Su, although the Yin Ye Si hasn’t made much progress with your brother’s case, there’s someone who will find another way. This matter can be brought to the court’s attention even without you appealing to the Dengwen Drum Court.”

    “Who?”

    “Grand Councilor Meng Yun Xian,” Xu He Xue said, holding the oil-paper package. “The Yin Ye Si doesn’t have the authority to arrest and interrogate directly, but the Chief Censor, Jiang Xian Ming, can report based on hearsay. Minister Meng might use him to investigate.”

    The moon was bright in the clear night sky. The sweet cake in Ni Su’s hand was still warm. Through her tears, she looked at the young man crouching before her.

    He had been an official in his previous life.

    Ni Su could almost imagine him in his official robes and hat, young and handsome, perhaps full of ambition and promise. But all that had ended at nineteen.

    Just like her brother’s life, which had ended abruptly this year.

    “Xu Zi Ling,” Ni Su said suddenly, her eyelids flickering, “if you were still alive, you would have been a good official.”

  • Summoning the Soul 19

    Chapter 19: Bodhisattva Barbarian (Part 7)

    Jin Xiang Shi had originally worked in the Ministry of Rites, but due to his exceptional painting skills, he had been transferred to the Hanlin Painting Academy after the winter examination. He had spent the past two months in Wanning, creating maps, and had been claiming illness since returning a few days ago.

    Suspecting the involvement of court officials, and with the motive still unclear, the Yin Ye Si hadn’t yet formally reported the winter examination case to the Emperor. Therefore, they could only question the Imperial College officials indirectly.

    While Ni Su was recuperating, the Yin Ye Si had investigated the transcribers, but they hadn’t learned much at the Imperial College. Jin Xiang Shi, having received praise and a reward from the Emperor, had been feigning illness and hadn’t left his residence.

    The Yin Ye Si had no reason to question him directly.

    Ni Su had initially hoped to learn something through Lady Sun, but the incident at the Ru Qin Poetry Society made it clear that Lady Sun strongly disapproved of Ni Su’s profession and wouldn’t associate with her.

    “Did the incense and candles I lit during the day really help? Are you in pain?” Ni Su whispered, hiding behind a bush in Jin Xiang Shi’s courtyard, tugging at Xu He Xue’s sleeve.

    “No,” Xu He Xue shook his head, adjusting his sleeve.

    “Can I hold your sleeve? You can’t see, so I need to guide you,” Ni Su asked softly.

    They were trespassing, and it wasn’t wise to carry a lantern.

    “Mmm,” Xu He Xue nodded, reaching out towards her voice and offering his sleeve.

    He felt her grip on his sleeve and his eyelashes flickered.

    “Let’s go this way.”

    Ni Su observed the courtyard for a while, making sure no servants were near the lit study, then led Xu He Xue towards the window behind the study.

    The window was slightly ajar. Ni Su peered inside.

    In the brightly lit study, Jin Xiang Shi chewed on dried beef and took a swig of wine, his mind elsewhere. “Why didn’t you tell me you were unwell? Can’t our family afford a physician? Now that those women from the poetry society know you consulted a medicine woman, they’re complaining to me.”

    “Is this something to be spoken of so lightly? I did consult physicians, but they couldn’t properly examine me. I took their prescriptions, but they didn’t work. I suffer from stomach cramps every day. Haven’t you noticed?” Lady Sun said angrily, sitting with her back to him, wiping her tears with a handkerchief. “If the pain hadn’t been unbearable that day, I wouldn’t have listened to Lady Cai and consulted that young woman.”

    “Weren’t you afraid she might kill you? Don’t you know what medicine women are like? How many of them have proper skills? Many of them end up killing their patients. How many can truly heal?” Jin Xiang Shi said, taking another bite of dried beef without looking up. “If they succeed, it’s just blind luck.”

    “But I am feeling better,” Lady Sun said, her face buried in her handkerchief.

    “Now all those other ladies know you consulted a medicine woman. Do you think they won’t tell their husbands? Do you think those men will allow you to corrupt their wives?” Jin Xiang Shi snorted. “I told you to stay home and not join that poetry society. Now look what happened. You’ve embarrassed me. Those officials are probably gossiping about my poor management of my household.”

    “I think you should stop attending the poetry society. It’s just inviting ridicule.”

    “Why? Lady Cai still associates with that young woman openly. If she can attend, why can’t I?” Lady Sun retorted, her hair ornaments shaking.

    “Lady Cai is different. Her father, before retiring, was a civil official, but he also served as a military supervisor in the north and picked up some of those soldiers’ rough habits. And she married into the Grand Commandant’s residence, another military family. Only her husband is a civil official. Isn’t her elder brother a military officer in the Palace Guard? Even the Chief Eunuch has to speak respectfully to him… Her family is rough and unrestrained. Do you want to be like them? Besides, after today’s incident, those ladies might not tolerate her presence in the poetry society any longer.”

    Jin Xiang Shi, still basking in the Emperor’s recent praise, said smugly, “That’s settled then. Don’t go to the poetry society anymore. It’s just a gathering of young women. Minister Meng’s wife, Lady Jiang, and Minister Pei’s wife, Lady Zhao, rarely attend. What’s the point of you going? You won’t even get to know them.”

    “Husband…” Lady Sun started to protest, but Jin Xiang Shi waved his hand impatiently. “Go now. I’ll be spending the night with Xing Er.”

    Not only had he blocked her from socializing with other women, but he had also mentioned his concubine, Xing Er. Tears welled up in Lady Sun’s eyes, but she didn’t dare argue, leaving the room in a huff.

    With Lady Sun gone, Jin Xiang Shi was alone in the study.

    He sat at the table, his face clouded with worry. He stopped eating the beef but continued to drink.

    Suddenly, a gust of cold wind chilled his back, almost making him drop his cup. The candles on the table flickered and died. The room was dimly lit by the moonlight. A smoky mist drifted from behind him. Jin Xiang Shi’s back stiffened, his face twitching. He slowly turned around and saw a translucent, white-clad figure in the swirling mist.

    He gasped, falling from his chair, the wine cup shattering.

    “Xu Zi Ling,” Ni Su whispered, peering through the window, “he’s on your right.”

    Xu He Xue paused, then turned to his right.

    “Jin Xiang Shi,” he said, his voice cold and ethereal, his face hidden beneath the veiled hat, his figure faint as mist in the moonlight.

    “Who… who are you?” Jin Xiang Shi’s face twitched violently. The mist and wind swirled around him, stinging his eyes. He raised his sleeve to shield his face.

    “Ni Qinglan,” the icy voice replied.

    Jin Xiang Shi’s eyes widened, his face paling further.

    “You know me,” Xu He Xue said, although he couldn’t see, he heard the sharp intake of breath.

    “No, I don’t know. I don’t know anything…” Jin Xiang Shi, his knees weak, instinctively backed away.

    But the more he retreated, the more certain Xu He Xue became of his suspicions.

    “Master Jin,” Xu He Xue said, his lifeless eyes hidden beneath the veil, “I’m a wandering spirit. I can’t enter the underworld until I remember how I died.”

    Jin Xiang Shi watched as the ghostly figure dissolved into mist, then reappeared a few steps away. He tried to scream, but the mist tightened around his neck like a silken scarf.

    He clutched his throat in terror, hearing the cold, calm voice again. “What do you know, Master Jin? Tell me the truth.”

    A faint, shimmering light emanated from the white figure.

    Ni Su, watching from outside the window, knew Xu He Xue was using his powers. Concerned, and seeing Jin Xiang Shi trembling like a leaf, she called out, “Master Jin, tell him! Do you want to end up like us?”

    The sudden female voice startled Jin Xiang Shi. He looked around frantically, but saw no one. The mist thickened, and his lips trembled. “Who… who are you?”

    “I’m the female ghost who drowned in the dry well, Master Jin. Do you want to come play with me in the well?” Ni Su said, drawing out her words.

    “Ah!” Jin Xiang Shi scrambled backwards, kowtowing frantically. “I didn’t harm you, Scholar Ni! I wasn’t the only one transcribing the papers!”

    “Then why have you been feigning illness since returning from Wanning?” Xu He Xue asked.

    “I… I did see Scholar Ni’s paper. The essay was so well-written, and the calligraphy was excellent, so I remembered it. After transcribing it, I handed it to someone else and didn’t think about it again. But later, a colleague who was supposed to submit all the anonymized papers had an upset stomach and asked me to submit them on his behalf…” Jin Xiang Shi, his face and back drenched in sweat, didn’t dare look up. “I have a good memory. On the way to submit the papers, I glanced through them and saw that essay again. But the handwriting… it wasn’t the one I had transcribed!”

    Jin Xiang Shi had been suspicious but hadn’t said anything. After being transferred to the Hanlin Painting Academy, he had put the matter aside and gone to Wanning to create maps.

    But upon returning, he had heard about the discovery of Ni Qinglan’s body in the mud Buddha statue and that the Yin Ye Si had visited the Imperial College. Fearing for his safety, he had requested leave from the Emperor, who was pleased with the maps he had created.

    He had confined himself to his residence these past few days, afraid of being questioned by the Yin Ye Si and implicated in the case.

    He had intended to take this secret to his grave.

    Drip. Drip.

    Jin Xiang Shi felt cold, wet drops falling on his head, trickling down his forehead and nose, until they landed on the ground. He saw that they were drops of blood.

    The blood turned into shimmering dust, floating and dissipating before his eyes.

    Jin Xiang Shi’s mind snapped, and he collapsed to the ground, unconscious.

    The moon was bright, the wind gentle, the alley quiet.

    “Didn’t I tell you? Don’t use your powers. Just standing there is enough to scare him,” Ni Su said, slowly leading Xu He Xue by his sleeve.

    Xu He Xue didn’t reply at first, simply following her. But then, remembering her imitation of a female ghost at the Jin residence, he said, “He’s probably more afraid of you.”

    Ni Su felt slightly embarrassed. “You’re too polite. You’re not scary at all. I was just trying to get him to tell the truth quickly.”

    He was the ghost, after all.

    “Your brother’s examination paper was probably switched,” Xu He Xue said.

    At the mention of her brother, Ni Su lowered her eyes and nodded slightly. “Mmm. But he might not tell the Yin Ye Si, even though he’s afraid of ghosts.”

    “Didn’t you leave a note?” Xu He Xue asked, the cold moonlight illuminating his pale profile. “If Jin Xiang Shi is afraid of being haunted, he’ll confess to the Yin Ye Si.”

    As soon as he finished speaking, he noticed Ni Su stumble and quickly grabbed her wrist, pulling her back.

    Ni Su bumped into his chest.

    The scent of spring flowers mingled with the chill of snow.

    Her warmth made Xu He Xue seem even colder, like a perpetual winter. He clearly rejected her warmth, the close proximity.

    But Xu He Xue merely blinked, like a snowman, motionless. He didn’t dare release her hand, only lifting his chin, which her hair had brushed against, and calling her name. “Ni Su?”

    “Mmm,” Ni Su replied, sweat beading on her temples. She shook her head. “I’m fine. I just bumped my injured leg when I climbed through the window.”

  • Summoning the Soul 18

    Chapter 18: Bodhisattva Barbarian (Part 6)

    “I’ve had people inquire at the Ministry of Personnel. That Ni Qinglan was indeed a scholar from Que County,” Assistant Minister Pei Zhi Yuan said, scattering fish food into a fishbowl. “But his name wasn’t on the list of successful candidates, so the Ministry didn’t pay him any further attention and wasn’t aware of his disappearance after the examination.”

    “However, didn’t the Yin Ye Si capture a jailer in the Guangning Prefecture Yamen who tried to silence a witness?” Pei Zhi Yuan put down the bowl, rubbed his hands, and turned to look at the purple-robed minister. “The murderer was afraid the woman would appeal to the Dengwen Drum Court…”

    If Ni Su appealed to the Dengwen Drum Court, the case would be brought directly to the Emperor’s attention.

    “The Dengwen Drum Court has a rule that anyone who appeals, regardless of gender, must first be subjected to a beating to prove their sincerity. This alone deters countless people,” Meng Yun Xian said, casually glancing at a memorial. “The murderer saw that Miss Ni endured the Guangning Prefecture Yamen’s welcome beating. If she were released from the Silu Prison unharmed, she wouldn’t hesitate to endure another beating at the Dengwen Drum Court. That’s why the murderer was so eager to bribe Jailer Qian San to silence her.”

    “How did the Yin Ye Si interrogate that Jailer Qian San? Did he confess anything?”

    “Han Qing hadn’t even started the interrogation when he bit down on poison and killed himself.” Qian San had swallowed poison hidden in his teeth as soon as he entered the Yin Ye Si.

    “Of course. If the murderer revealed themselves so easily, it would be too anticlimactic.” Pei Zhi Yuan wasn’t surprised. “But that Ni Qinglan’s sister… should we say she’s brave? Even in the Yin Ye Si, she stuck to her story. Could it be that her brother really did appear to her in a dream?”

    Meng Yun Xian looked up at the light streaming through the carved window and suddenly said, “If only the dead could truly appear in dreams.”

    “What do you mean?” Pei Zhi Yuan took a bite of a green date.

    “If that were possible, I would also like to ask someone to appear in my dream,” Meng Yun Xian said, closing the memorial, “and ask him whether he was truly wronged.”

    Pei Zhi Yuan choked on the date pit, his face turning red as he coughed. He waved his hands. “Minister Meng, be careful what you say!”

    “Min Xing, after all these years in the Eastern Depot, you’re still so timid. There’s no one here but us. What are you afraid of?” Meng Yun Xian chuckled, amused by his colleague’s reaction.

    “Minister Zhang’s return has already aroused the Emperor’s suspicion. You should be careful what you say,” Pei Zhi Yuan, having finally swallowed the date pit, said, wiping the sweat from his forehead and bowing to Meng Yun Xian.

    “Take a look at this,” Meng Yun Xian said, handing him the memorial.

    Pei Zhi Yuan took it and read it carefully in the sunlight, his expression turning to surprise. “Minister Meng, this is an excellent essay! It addresses current issues and offers insightful solutions for the new laws. The parallel prose is also beautifully written!”

    “It was written by Ni Qinglan,” Meng Yun Xian said, picking up his teacup. “There’s a scholar surnamed He still in the capital. Ni Qinglan interacted with him frequently after arriving in Yun Jing. I obtained this from him.”

    “That’s strange,” Pei Zhi Yuan said, examining the memorial again. “If this was truly written by Ni Qinglan, why wasn’t his name on the list of successful candidates? Such a talented individual shouldn’t have been overlooked.”

    “Indeed,” Meng Yun Xian’s smile faded, his expression turning serious as steam rose from his teacup. “Such a talented individual shouldn’t have met such an end.”

    Pei Zhi Yuan, having served under Meng Yun Xian since his youth, knew how much the new policies meant to him and how much he valued talented individuals who could implement them effectively.

    Seeing his serious expression, Pei Zhi Yuan understood that Meng Yun Xian was determined to investigate this matter. He wisely remained silent, taking another bite of his date.

    “Where did you get those dates?” Meng Yun Xian suddenly asked.

    “Minister Zhang gave them to me this morning. He said the date trees in his courtyard were laden with fruit, and he didn’t want the birds to ruin them, so he had them all picked and distributed among us. They’re quite sweet,” Pei Zhi Yuan said, spitting out the date pit. “You didn’t get any? Of course, Minister Zhang has severed ties with you. Why would he give you dates?”

    “Minister Meng, everyone is assembled,” an attendant announced from outside.

    Meng Yun Xian ignored Pei Zhi Yuan, put down his teacup, and walked out, his hands clasped behind his back.

    In the main hall, Meng Yun Xian saw that many officials were eating dates, but his desk was empty.

    “Minister Meng,” the officials greeted him, rising and bowing.

    “Mmm.” Meng Yun Xian walked in, ignoring their hurried attempts to swallow their date pits, and sat down beside Zhang Jing. He couldn’t resist asking, “Why didn’t I get any?”

    “Minister Meng, you’re a connoisseur of fine cuisine. I hear you even wrote a cookbook yourself. How could the humble dates from my courtyard be worthy of your palate? Besides, by the time they reached you, there wouldn’t be any left,” Zhang Jing said, his gaze fixed ahead.

    The officials in the hall exchanged glances, holding their breath.

    “Zhang Chong Zhi,” Meng Yun Xian chuckled, exasperated. “Are you even excluding me from eating dates now?”

    Ni Su recuperated at the Grand Commandant’s residence for some time, finally able to walk again. During this period, Zhou Ting from the Yin Ye Si visited, bringing news of Jailer Qian San’s suicide and another important piece of information.

    Director Han Qing had requested Ni Qinglan’s examination papers, but the Imperial College had misplaced several papers from the unsuccessful candidates, including Ni Qinglan’s.

    Although the papers of unsuccessful candidates weren’t considered important, according to Qi law, all papers should be sealed and kept for a year before being destroyed.

    The Imperial College had punished several officials involved, but the trail seemed to have gone cold.

    “Miss Ni, I truly didn’t suspect anything at the time. He had caught a cold and wasn’t feeling well at the Imperial College… I just assumed he had failed the examination due to his illness and left without saying goodbye out of frustration.” The young man in a dark blue robe, his face filled with regret, sat across from Ni Su at a tea stall.

    He was He Zhong Ping, the Yanzhou scholar who had sent the letter to the Ni family in Que County.

    Since sitting down, he had repeated the same story. As a fellow scholar who had participated in the winter examination, he genuinely didn’t know anything more. “However, an officer surnamed Zhou from the Yin Ye Si took an essay from me. It was written by Brother Ni. I had borrowed it and hadn’t returned it yet. It’s now in the Yin Ye Si’s possession. I believe they will bring justice to Brother Ni.”

    Ni Su held her teacup, then said, “But justice requires evidence.”

    Hearing this, He Zhong Ping’s expression turned somber, and he fell silent.

    Ni Su didn’t stay long, leaving after a few sips of tea.

    Yu Wen and several guards from the Grand Commandant’s residence waited under a large banyan tree across the street. As Ni Su walked towards them, a child, held in someone’s arms, stared at her intently even after walking some distance away.

    Ni Su looked down. The fluffy, white light flickered on the ground.

    She stopped, and it stopped too.

    A faint smile touched Ni Su’s pale lips.

    “Miss Ni, Mistress asked us to go directly to the Yan Hui Pavilion. The other ladies from the poetry society have arrived, including Lady Sun,” Yu Wen said, helping Ni Su into the carriage.

    “Alright,” Ni Su’s expression changed slightly at the mention of Lady Sun.

    Literary culture flourished in the Great Qi. In the bustling capital of Yun Jing, it wasn’t uncommon for women to form poetry societies. Bookstores often published collections of poems written by these women, and several talented female poets had gained considerable fame.

    One of them was Lady Jiang Shao, the wife of Grand Councilor Meng Yun Xian.

    The Ru Qin Poetry Society had originally been formed by Lady Jiang and her close friends at the Yan Hui Pavilion. But fourteen years ago, when Minister Meng was demoted, she had accompanied him to Wen County, and the poetry society disbanded. Only Lady Zhao, the wife of a Minister, had continued to maintain it, inviting younger women to join.

    Cai Chun Xu was one of them, and Lady Sun had joined two years ago.

    “Mistress said Lady Sun’s monthly cycle started yesterday. Thankfully, your prescription worked. Otherwise, she would still be suffering from stomach cramps and unable to leave her house today,” Yu Wen said as they arrived at the Yan Hui Pavilion and walked towards a waterside pavilion.

    Ni Su was about to reply when a bright, female voice called out, “Sister A-Xi!”

    Looking up, Ni Su saw Cai Chun Xu, sitting at a table, writing, her eyes crinkling with a smile. She wore a bright orange jacket embroidered with butterflies, her hair styled in a cloud bun, adorned with pearl hairpins and fresh flowers.

    “Everyone, this is my benefactor’s younger sister, Ni Su, A-Xi for short. She’s also well-read, so I invited her to join us today.” Cai Chun Xu put down her brush and introduced Ni Su to the other elegantly dressed women.

    A woman in her forties, wearing a dark green dress, put down the flowers she was arranging and looked Ni Su up and down. “You’re a beautiful young lady. But you look so thin. Are you unwell?”

    Her words were kind and appropriately concerned. The other women also looked at Ni Su, but a younger woman in her twenties had a strange expression.

    Before Ni Su could reply, another woman spoke. “Lady Cao, you don’t know. She sustained those injuries in your husband’s Guangning Prefecture Yamen.”

    The pavilion fell silent.

    “Lady Sun, what do you mean?” Lady Cao asked, her face stiffening.

    The woman who spoke was Lady Sun, the one Yu Wen had mentioned. Now, with everyone staring at her, she looked slightly uncomfortable. “I heard she made absurd claims and was beaten in the Guangning Prefecture Yamen’s Silu Prison…”

    “Sun Yun,” Cai Chun Xu interrupted, the smile vanishing from her face. “I think you’ve been ill for too long and your mind is addled!”

    “No need to remind me,” Sun Yun muttered, glancing at the pale young woman standing beside Cai Chun Xu, then looking away. “If you hadn’t brought her here, I wouldn’t have said anything.”

    A young woman sitting by the railing, confused, asked softly, “Lady Sun, what’s going on? Why don’t you explain clearly?”

    “You don’t know,” Lady Sun said, touching her hair with a handkerchief. “This girl… she’s a medicine woman.”

    What? A medicine woman?

    The women exchanged glances, then looked at Ni Su, their expressions varying. In their circles, being a medicine woman wasn’t a respectable profession.

    “Sun Yun,” Cai Chun Xu’s face darkened. “Have you forgotten who diagnosed your irregular periods and gave you the prescription that allowed you to leave your house after months of suffering from stomach cramps? She comes from a family of physicians. It’s not surprising that she knows some medicine. You thanked her profusely that day. Even if you don’t acknowledge it now, why insult her?”

    The women in the pavilion had only known that Sun Yun had been ill and hadn’t joined their gatherings, but they hadn’t known the nature of her ailment. Now, they all looked at her.

    Sun Yun, embarrassed that her secret had been revealed, said defensively, “If a woman does such things, isn’t she a medicine woman? Did she only treat me?”

    She stood up and took off her jade bracelets and gold bangles, thrusting them into Ni Su’s hands. “I received treatment and used your prescription. Here’s your payment!”

    “Sun Yun!” Cai Chun Xu was about to explode, but Ni Su, who had been silent until now, grabbed her wrist.

    “Yes,” Ni Su said, meeting the gazes of the women in the pavilion, the sunlight glinting off the water. “I’ve treated other women as well, and I’m not just superficially familiar with medicine. Men study for ten years for fame and fortune, while I’ve dedicated ten years to medicine. I’m indeed different from you. I read medical texts, not poetry. There’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

    “I’m grateful to Sister Cai for helping me leave the Yin Ye Si early. I treated you because Sister Cai mentioned your ailment. If you want to talk about payment, consider it already paid by Sister Cai. I won’t accept this.”

    Ni Su tossed the jewelry onto the floor. The jade bracelets shattered with a crisp sound.

    “I won’t disturb your gathering any longer. Excuse me.” A faint smile touched Ni Su’s lips as she bowed to the women.

    “Sister Cao, everyone, I’ll escort Sister A-Xi back,” Cai Chun Xu said, glaring at Lady Sun, then bowing to the others and hurrying after Ni Su.

    The pavilion fell silent.

    “Looking at that young woman… she doesn’t seem like a medicine woman…” one of the women said, gazing at Ni Su’s retreating figure.

    In their minds, medicine women were usually old crones, not young, educated women like her.

    But they had clearly heard her admit to treating patients.

    “Sister A-Xi, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have brought you there. You were humiliated for no reason…” Cai Chun Xu said, frowning, as they rode back to the Grand Commandant’s residence.

    Ni Su shook her head. “Sister Cai, you know I wanted to ask Lady Sun about something. She rarely leaves her house, and it’s not convenient to visit her. This was the only opportunity. I’m grateful for your help, even though it caused you trouble.”

    “I wish your prescription hadn’t worked so well! I hope Sun Yun is still suffering from cramps and can’t even open her mouth!” Cai Chun Xu said, crumpling her handkerchief in frustration.

    Back at the Grand Commandant’s residence, Yu Wen opened the door to Ni Su’s room, and the three of them were immediately hit by the overwhelming scent of incense, making them cough.

    “Sister A-Xi, why did you light so much incense before leaving?” Cai Chun Xu asked, waving her hand to clear the air. “I don’t see any Buddha statues here.”

    “Huh?” Ni Su’s eyes were slightly red from the smoke. “I offered it to one.”

    “Where?” Cai Chun Xu asked, peering into the room from the doorway.

    Ni Su, unsure how to reply, mumbled, “In my heart…”

    If Yu Wen hadn’t closed the windows before leaving, the smoke wouldn’t have filled the room.

    They couldn’t enter the room for now. Yu Wen placed a cushion on a stone bench under a tree for Ni Su to sit on. Several maids and servants swept and chatted nearby.

    With Yu Wen gone, Ni Su rested her chin on her hand. “Xu Zi Ling, Lady Sun is a dead end.”

    To prevent cheating, examination papers were anonymized and transcribed before being presented to the examiners.

    Lady Sun’s husband, Jin Xiang Shi, was one of the transcribers for the winter examination.

    “Aspirations are not determined by gender.”

    Ni Su heard a voice from the deep shadows of the tree and looked up to see the hem of his white robe.

    “I know,” she said, gazing at him. “I’ve known since I was young that besides the narrow-minded men my mother spoke of, there are also women who will never understand me.”

    Like Lady Sun, who, after using her prescription, had categorized her as a lowly medicine woman and couldn’t tolerate Cai Chun Xu bringing her to the Ru Qin Poetry Society.

    “But I think I’m still better off than my brother,” she continued. “I’m a woman. They can’t use propriety as an excuse to restrict me, so they resort to labeling me as low-class. But why should I accept that label? Is it written in the laws of Great Qi?”

    “They think I should be ashamed, that I should cower. But I won’t. I will live with dignity, carrying the aspirations of my brother and myself.”

    The dappled sunlight made it difficult to see his face clearly. “Why don’t we go directly to Jin Xiang Shi?”

    “What do you have in mind?” the young man with cold eyes asked, his gaze meeting hers beneath the rustling leaves.

    “You pretend to be a ghost…” Ni Su paused, realizing her words were redundant. He was a ghost. “We go at night, and you scare him. How about that?”

  • Summoning the Soul 17

    Chapter 17: Bodhisattva Barbarian (Part 5)

    Xu He Xue had long forgotten what sweet cakes tasted like.

    The preferences and habits of his human life had faded from his memory after nearly a hundred years in Youdu. But some things were linked to memories he had barely managed to retain.

    Like this sweet cake, connected to his brother and sister-in-law.

    It radiated warmth against his palm, making him realize how cold his hand was, as cold as ice and snow.

    The sky outside was still dim. The lowered bamboo blind made the carriage even darker. Xu He Xue vaguely saw the young woman beside him, her cheek resting on her hand, take a bite of the sweet cake.

    He lowered his eyelashes and looked at the cake in his own hand.

    Tentatively, he took a bite.

    What did sweetness taste like?

    He had forgotten.

    But it certainly wasn’t this dry, tasteless, waxy sensation in his mouth.

    It seemed to have no flavor at all.

    “The brown sugar filling is still warm. Be careful not to burn yourself,” Ni Su said, biting through the golden, crispy crust and reaching the sweet syrup inside. “It’s really sweet.”

    Xu He Xue couldn’t see the syrup clearly, only a dark red blob inside the white pastry. Hearing her say it was sweet, he looked up at her.

    “Is it good?” Ni Su asked, meeting his gaze.

    “It’s good,” he replied.

    Ni Su ate a few more bites, then drifted back into a hazy sleep as the carriage swayed. She didn’t even notice when they arrived at the Grand Commandant’s residence.

    The air no longer smelled of blood and dampness. She dreamt she was in a clean, comfortable room, much like her home in Que County.

    “Such a haughty Chaofeng Lang! You’re our only scholar, and you act so superior!”

    Ni Su, half-asleep, heard voices, then a sharp, female voice startled her awake.

    Behind a light green curtain, she could vaguely see a plump woman pulling away from a tall, thin man.

    “Chun Xu, keep your voice down. You’ll wake the young lady inside,” the man, still in his green official robes, said cautiously, his voice slightly pleading. “The Ministry of Justice is currently organizing criminal records from all over the country. As a Sishi, I can’t just leave…”

    “Not even for half a day? Do you not know what kind of place the Yin Ye Si is? If you had asked for help sooner, she wouldn’t be in this state!”

    “Chun Xu, the medic said her injuries are from the beating, just flesh wounds. You don’t understand the Yin Ye Si’s methods. If she were truly guilty, she would have been tortured much worse, or not come out at all. But Director Han clearly didn’t torture her. After all, she’s innocent.” The man patted the woman’s shoulder tentatively. “The Yin Ye Si doesn’t torture people indiscriminately. Director Han is a fair man. We brought her out, didn’t we? Don’t be angry…”

    The woman was about to retort when she heard a cough from behind the curtain. She immediately pushed the man away and entered the room.

    The young woman on the bed looked pale and weak, her eyes unfocused.

    Seeing her dry lips, the young woman called out, “Yu Wen, bring some water.”

    The maidservant, Yu Wen, immediately brought a cup of warm water and carefully helped Ni Su sit up to drink.

    Ni Su’s throat felt better. She looked at the plump, beautiful woman sitting on a stool. “Are you Sister Cai?”

    “Indeed. I am Cai Chun Xu.” She helped Ni Su lie back down, placing a soft cushion under her head. “You’re injured. Don’t move.”

    She gestured to the gentle-looking young man behind her. “This is my husband, Miao Yi Yang.”

    “Miss Ni, I apologize for arriving late,” the Grand Commandant’s second son said softly, standing beside his wife like a timid cat.

    “It’s my own fault,” Ni Su shook her head. “If I hadn’t gotten into trouble, I wouldn’t have burdened you.”

    “Don’t say that. Your grandfather saved my family. If you’re all so reluctant to ask for help, how will my family ever repay our debt?” Cai Chun Xu wiped the sweat from Ni Su’s forehead with a handkerchief. “Now that you’re out of that dreadful place, rest and recover here. If you need anything, just tell me.”

    “Thank you, Sister Cai,” Ni Su said softly.

    Cai Chun Xu was about to say something else when Miao Yi Yang nudged her. She turned and glared at him, then reluctantly stood up. “Do you have a childhood name, Sister?”

    “My family calls me A-Xi,” Ni Su replied.

    “Sister A-Xi, I’ll leave Yu Wen here to attend to you. I have some matters to attend to, but I’ll come back later.” Cai Chun Xu left the room.

    “Rest well, Miss Ni,” Miao Yi Yang said, quickly following his wife.

    Seeing Ni Su’s puzzled look as Miao Yi Yang hurried out, Yu Wen chuckled. “Don’t mind him, Miss. He’s rushing to have my mistress critique his poetry!”

    “Critique his poetry?” Ni Su was surprised.

    “You see, my mistress’s father was Second Young Master’s teacher. But Second Young Master lacks the talent for writing elegant essays and poems. It’s thanks to the Emperor’s consideration for Grand Commandant Miao’s military achievements that Second Young Master, despite being only a Juren, was granted an official position through imperial grace.”

    Although a Sishi in the Ministry of Justice was only an eighth-rank position, the Emperor had also granted Miao Yi Yang the honorary title of Chaofeng Lang, a sixth-rank title.

    “The court is full of Jinshi officials. Those scholars are arrogant and look down on those like Second Young Master who entered officialdom through other means. Naturally, they face ostracism and often have to attend poetry gatherings. But he’s not very good at it. Fortunately, my mistress is well-read and often helps him.”

    “I see,” Ni Su said, resting her chin on the soft pillow.

    “Miss, if you’re in pain, rest for a while. I’ll wake you for lunch when it arrives,” Yu Wen said with a smile, lowering the bed curtains and leaving the room.

    The sun shone through the window, its light dappling the floor. The scent of incense filled the room. Through the gauze curtains, Ni Su saw a faint, mist-like figure standing by the window.

    He stood quietly, as if observing something.

    Ni Su didn’t speak, merely closing her eyes.

    After eating some plain porridge for lunch, Ni Su developed a high fever in the afternoon. Cai Chun Xu had Yu Wen call for a medic again. In her feverish dreams, Ni Su was force-fed bitter medicine, her tongue numb, her mind hazy.

    Yu Wen changed Ni Su’s damp cloths several times during the night, finally falling asleep at her desk, exhausted.

    Ni Su’s mind wandered in her fever. The candle in the room hadn’t been lit by her. Xu He Xue’s world was dark. He could only follow the sound of her delirious murmurs, slowly making his way to her bedside.

    She called out for her brother, then for her mother.

    Xu He Xue reached out to touch her forehead, but his blindness made him misjudge the distance, his fingers brushing against her soft cheek.

    A tear rolled down her cheek, landing on his finger.

    His finger twitched, and he quickly withdrew his hand.

    He sat on the edge of the bed, his robes like frost beneath his cloak, his long eyelashes half-covering his lifeless eyes. After a while, he reached out again, this time correctly finding the damp cloth on her forehead.

    It wasn’t very wet anymore.

    Ni Su felt like she was burning in a furnace. In her dream, her brother, still a young boy, told her the story of a monkey who gained fiery golden eyes after being thrown into an alchemist’s furnace.

    Suddenly, the world turned upside down, and she looked up to see branches covered in snow, snowflakes falling on her head.

    The chilling cold startled her awake.

    A single candle burned in the room.

    She stared at the young man sitting beside her bed, realizing that the snow in her dream was his hand on her forehead.

    “Xu Zi Ling,” she whispered, her throat dry and scratchy.

    “Mmm?” he replied, hearing her faint voice.

    Sensing her trying to sit up, Xu He Xue pressed his hand against her forehead. “Don’t.”

    She wanted to get up and light the candles.

    He knew.

    “But what about you?” Ni Su asked, struggling to open her eyes in the dim light.

    “I can wait.” Xu He Xue’s lifeless eyes were cold and desolate.

    “Then…” Ni Su’s eyelids felt heavy. “Just wait a little while. When I feel better, I’ll ask someone to buy you many candles…”

    “Alright.” Xu He Xue looked up, the candlelight illuminating his shoulders and back. His figure, beneath the cloak, was thin and straight.

    He kept his hand on Ni Su’s forehead, sitting motionless throughout the night until dawn.

    As soon as daylight broke, Ni Su’s fever subsided.

    Cai Chun Xu arrived with the medic, and Ni Su was force-fed another dose of bitter medicine in her sleep. She finally woke up near noon.

    Yu Wen brought a bowl of porridge and a small dish of diced brown sugar. “I don’t know how much you like, Miss. If the medicine is too bitter, add some brown sugar.”

    As Yu Wen was about to leave, Ni Su said, “Could you please buy me some incense and candles?”

    Incense and candles?

    Although puzzled, Yu Wen nodded. “We have those in the residence, Miss. I’ll fetch some for you.”

    Ni Su thanked her, and Yu Wen, waving her hand dismissively, left the room.

    Silence returned.

    Ni Su leaned against the pillows, looked towards the light green curtain, and called softly, “Xu Zi Ling?”

    A faint mist drifted in from beyond the curtain, gradually forming the tall figure of a man. A pale hand lifted the curtain, and a pair of clear eyes looked at her.

    Ni Su’s gaze was fixed on his hand.

    She remembered the snow falling on her head in her dream, dispelling the burning heat.

    “Come here,” Ni Su said, her voice stronger now. She picked up a small piece of brown sugar from the celadon dish. “Let’s eat sugar together.”

  • Summoning the Soul 16

    Chapter 16: Bodhisattva Barbarian (Part 4)

    Ni Su ate half a bowl of porridge and drifted back to sleep. But the pain in her body made her restless. The sound of the iron gate opening and closing in the guard room startled her awake.

    “Zhou Ting, bring her out.”

    Ni Su heard a voice, followed by approaching footsteps. Several Yin Ye Si officers appeared at the cell door, unlocking the lock.

    The candles had burned half the night, and Xu He Xue’s condition had improved. His spirit form wasn’t as faint as before. He watched as the officers entered, unlocked the cell, and helped Ni Su up. He didn’t reveal himself, but meeting Ni Su’s gaze, he shook his head slightly and said, “Don’t be afraid.”

    Only Ni Su could hear his voice. The officers, oblivious to his presence, led her out of the cell, across the water-filled torture chamber, and strapped her to a torture rack.

    Cold iron chains bound her wrists, waist, and neck, forcing her head up and immobilizing her. She could only look at the eunuch-dressed official sitting across the torture chamber.

    “Miss Ni, you’ve just arrived in Yun Jing. How did you discover your brother’s body on Qingyuan Mountain?” Han Qing asked, taking a teacup from a subordinate.

    “My brother came to me in a dream and led me there,” Ni Su replied weakly.

    Han Qing paused, his hand hovering over the teacup. He raised an eyebrow. “Miss Ni, you don’t think the Yin Ye Si is easier to fool than the Guangning Prefecture Yamen, do you?”

    The officer standing behind the rack tightened the chains, pressing Ni Su against the rack, aggravating her wounds from the beating. The chain around her neck also tightened, forcing her head back in a humiliating posture.

    “I’m sure you’ve already questioned Master Tian from the Guangning Prefecture Yamen,” Ni Su said, her body trembling with pain, her lips bloodless. “I have no connections or resources in Yun Jing. If I had another explanation, why would I subject myself to such suffering? Or do you, sir, have a better explanation?”

    Han Qing, seeing the woman’s frail and battered state, yet impressed by her clear and logical words, scrutinized her again. “How can you say you have no connections? An hour ago, people from the Grand Commandant’s residence came to the Yin Ye Si to inquire about you.”

    “Do you not know when my letter was delivered to the Grand Commandant’s residence?” Ni Su, her neck constricted by the chain, looked down at him. “If I weren’t imprisoned, I wouldn’t have asked for help so readily.”

    Zhou Ting, the commander of the Ji Huo Battalion, standing beside Director Han Qing, was slightly surprised. This frail young woman, strapped to the Yin Ye Si’s dreaded torture rack, showed no fear in her words.

    “You have spirit, Miss Ni. But to expect us to believe your absurd claims based solely on that judicial officer Tian Qi Zhong’s talisman… aren’t you being a bit naive?”

    Han Qing handed his teacup to Zhou Ting, stood up, and picked up a long whip. As he walked into the torture chamber, the whip trailed in the water, its numerous iron barbs glinting menacingly.

    Compared to the Yin Ye Si’s methods, the Guangning Prefecture Yamen’s punishments were child’s play.

    The handle of the whip pressed against Ni Su’s cheek, its coldness numbing her skin. She met Han Qing’s gaze and heard him say, “Even men can’t withstand this whip. Miss Ni, how much flesh do you think one lash will tear from your body?”

    His words were so cold and brutal that Ni Su’s feigned composure crumbled. She trembled uncontrollably. Han Qing swung the whip, the sound of it striking the water echoing through the chamber as he demanded, “Will you tell the truth now!”

    “Every word I’ve spoken is true!” Water splashed onto Ni Su’s face.

    “Alright,” Han Qing raised the whip again, water dripping from it. “Let’s assume you’re telling the truth. If you knew you couldn’t explain yourself, why didn’t you run?”

    “Why should I run?!” Ni Su cried, her eyes red-rimmed.

    Silence descended upon the torture chamber, broken only by the dripping water.

    Xu He Xue stood by the edge of the pool. “Ni Su, do you remember what I told you?”

    As soon as she heard his words, Han Qing raised the whip again, as if to strike her. Ni Su closed her eyes tightly. “How can you understand, sir!”

    The expected pain didn’t come. Ni Su opened her eyes and saw the whip, its sharp barbs stained with dried blood, inches from her face.

    “The importance of family outweighs my own life,” she murmured.

    Han Qing, his stern face showing a flicker of surprise, thought he had misheard. “What… what did you say?”

    “I didn’t run because I want justice for my brother. He can’t die without a proper explanation,” Ni Su said, her voice weak. “Even if I can’t explain myself, I have to do this.”

    Han Qing stared at her, almost transfixed.

    “Director?” Zhou Ting, seeing Han Qing’s uncharacteristic silence, called out.

    Han Qing snapped out of his trance, his grip on the barbed whip loosening. He looked at the young woman on the rack, then turned and walked out of the torture chamber.

    Water dripped from his robes. He spoke with his back to her. “You’re a clever woman, Miss Ni. I don’t believe a word of your dream story. But as you’ve guessed, neither the Guangning Prefecture Yamen nor the Yin Ye Si can convict you based on your absurd claims. There’s no such law in Great Qi.”

    He turned around and tossed the whip aside. “The Grand Commandant’s second son is now a court official. Since he inquired about you, I couldn’t ignore him.”

    He was now calm and composed, as if he hadn’t been the one wielding the whip moments ago.

    The rain outside the Yin Ye Si had stopped, and the sky was beginning to lighten. The cool morning breeze brushed against Ni Su’s face as she was led out of the Yin Ye Si, still dazed. The past day and night, spent in the prisons of the Guangning Prefecture Yamen and the Yin Ye Si, had felt incredibly long.

    “Don’t worry, Miss Ni. The Director is taking your brother’s case seriously. Since it’s related to the winter examination, he’ll get to the bottom of it,” Zhou Ting said, helping Ni Su into the carriage sent by the Grand Commandant’s residence and holding the curtain open.

    Ni Su nodded, watching as he lowered the curtain.

    “Since when is Commander Zhou so considerate? Even telling her not to worry…” one of the officers said, watching the carriage drive away, nudging Zhou Ting with his elbow.

    “Stop joking. Even though she’s been released, we still need to keep an eye on her,” Zhou Ting said sternly.

    The officer looked at the receding carriage. “I admire that young woman. She looks so frail, but she has spirit.”

    Many criminals broke down in the Yin Ye Si. This Miss Ni was an exception.

    The carriage rattled along the quiet streets.

    Ni Su huddled inside, her eyes closed, seeing the barbed whip Han Qing had wielded. She buried her face in her arms, her back drenched in cold sweat.

    “Han Qing had no intention of harming you,” a cold voice said. “He was just trying to break your spirit.”

    Ni Su didn’t look up. After a while, she asked, “Why did his expression change after I said those words you taught me?”

    “Because he saw himself in you.”

    Ni Su looked up. The bamboo blind cast the carriage interior in shadow. The young man sat beside her, his eyes dim.

    “What do you mean?”

    “He was once in a similar situation. Those words… he spoke them himself, years ago.”

    “How do you know?” Ni Su asked. “Were you also a court official in your previous life?”

    Xu He Xue didn’t deny it.

    “Han Qing was castrated and sent to the palace as a child. His only family was his older sister. She was tricked into a marriage where she suffered abuse and humiliation. In a moment of desperation, she injured her husband and was imprisoned, facing execution. The words I taught you were the first words he spoke when he knelt before a minister, begging for his sister’s life. I happened to be there.”

    “What happened to his sister?”

    “The minister helped her plead her case, and the Emperor, showing mercy, spared her life and granted her a divorce.”

    The minister Xu He Xue spoke of was Meng Yun Xian. But Meng Yun Xian hadn’t acted directly; he had used his influence through intermediaries.

    Therefore, almost no one, besides Xu He Xue, knew of the debt Han Qing owed Meng Yun Xian.

    “No wonder you told me not to be afraid.” Ni Su finally understood why the phrase was “outweighs my own life.” “But seeing that barbed whip in his hand… I was still terrified.”

    Terrified that one lash would tear her flesh apart.

    “You were brave enough.” In the dimly lit carriage, Xu He Xue couldn’t see her clearly.

    Ni Su shook her head. “That’s because I knew you were there.”

    “Knowing you were watching gave me courage,” she whispered. “I could only try my best to hold onto the sliver of hope you gave me.”

    Xu He Xue lowered his eyelashes, silent.

    “Do you smell something?” she suddenly asked, interrupting his thoughts.

    Xu He Xue looked up, unable to see her expression, slightly confused. “Hmm?”

    “Uncle,” Ni Su called out, raising her voice slightly.

    The coachman outside heard her and turned around. “What is it, Miss? We’re still a few streets away from the Grand Commandant’s residence!”

    “Please buy me two sweet cakes,” Ni Su said.

    The food stalls on the street were already open, their aromas filling the air.

    The coachman stopped the carriage, bought two sweet cakes, and handed them to Ni Su through the curtain. Seeing the bloodstains on her clothes, he said, “I’ll take you back to the residence immediately. The Second Young Madam will surely call for a medic.”

    The curtain fell. Xu He Xue’s vision blurred. Suddenly, a hand placed an oil-paper-wrapped cake in his hand.

    “I promised to buy you sweet cakes.”

    Xu He Xue looked down at the cake in his hand, momentarily stunned.

    A warm mist seemed to melt the coldness in his eyes.

    He looked up, holding the warm sweet cake, and whispered, “Thank you.”

  • Summoning the Soul 15

    Chapter 15: Bodhisattva Barbarian (Part 3)

    “Thank you all for your hard work. The matter of salary increases needs further discussion. How much, and how to implement it—we need a plan by tomorrow, for the day after tomorrow’s audience with the Emperor.”

    Inside the Hall of State Affairs, the purple-robed minister with thick eyebrows and clear eyes sat at the head of the table. “That’s all for today.”

    The attendant hurriedly gathered the memorials and began organizing them.

    They had attended the early morning court session and then discussed state affairs until nightfall. Hearing Minister Meng’s dismissal, the officials sighed in relief, rising and bowing.

    Zhang Jing, sitting beside Meng Yun Xian, remained silent, reading the remaining financial proposals. He looked up, saw that most of the officials had left, and stood up, leaning on his cane.

    “Chong Zhi, come to my house. My wife is making hotpot tonight. Let’s eat together,” Meng Yun Xian said to him, then, seeing Hanlin Scholar He Tong about to help his teacher out, walked over with a smile.

    “I’m used to simple fare. I won’t trouble you, Minister Meng,” Zhang Jing said dismissively, turning to leave.

    But Meng Yun Xian followed him to the door, unfazed by the cold reception. “Then I’ll come to your house. I’m used to simple fare too.”

    Zhang Jing stopped and turned, meeting Meng Yun Xian’s smiling face. After a moment, he said coldly, “Weren’t you, Minister Meng, most enthusiastic about rectifying official conduct? Why are you now focusing on finances?”

    He then walked out, supported by He Tong, his gaze fixed ahead.

    A light mist hung in the air. Meng Yun Xian stood at the doorway, watching as He Tong opened an umbrella for Zhang Jing and helped him down the steps.

    “Why do you bother?” Assistant Minister Pei Zhi Yuan walked over to Meng Yun Xian, his hands clasped behind his back. “Minister Zhang clearly doesn’t want anything to do with you. Why are you still so cheerful?”

    “It took me three visits to his thatched cottage, eating dinner at his house every day, to convince him to join me in implementing the new policies. During the fourteen years we were apart, I wondered if he regretted what we did.”

    “But as you saw just now, he thinks I’ve returned a changed man, no longer as resolute as before, that I’ve softened and become conciliatory.”

    Meng Yun Xian looked up at the rain and mist.

    “Haven’t you?” Pei Zhi Yuan asked, brushing raindrops from his sleeve.

    Meng Yun Xian turned, met Pei Zhi Yuan’s gaze, and smiled. He gestured for a eunuch to bring an umbrella and said slowly, “Of course I have.”

    Fourteen years after his return to Yun Jing, countless pairs of eyes watched Meng Yun Xian closely, wary that he might, like fourteen years ago, be too ambitious and eager to challenge their interests.

    But no one expected that his first proposal would be a new policy of “generous salaries to foster integrity.”

    This wasn’t reform; it was appeasement.

    “Even Censor Li, who opposed you most vehemently before, now looks at you with kinder eyes,” Pei Zhi Yuan said, gossiping as if he were cracking sunflower seeds.

    “It’s good. It shows that we’re all colleagues and friends, and the Emperor will hear fewer complaints about me.”

    Meng Yun Xian took the umbrella from the eunuch and walked out into the rain.

    Back at his residence, Meng Yun Xian took the tea offered by a servant and, seeing his wife, Lady Jiang, still looking out into the courtyard, shook his head with a smile. “My dear, Zhang Chong Zhi refused to come. We’ll have to eat hotpot by ourselves.”

    Lady Jiang frowned slightly, turning around to wipe the rain from his clothes with a handkerchief. “You deserve it. Back then, at the Xie Chun Pavilion, you said things he didn’t want to hear, causing him to lose a good student. Such a talented young scholar, a successful candidate in the imperial examination, forced to become a soldier on the border…”

    “My dear, you forget, I also have a military background.”

    Lady Jiang snorted. “Yes, you were a soldier. But if the Great Qi valued its soldiers, why did you insist on becoming a civil official?”

    Meng Yun Xian was about to reply when a servant announced, “Master, a guest has arrived.”

    The old steward didn’t mention a name, but Meng Yun Xian knew who it was. He took off his official robes, handed them to Lady Jiang, put on a casual jacket, and asked, “In the study?”

    “Yes, sir,” the old steward replied, bowing his head.

    When Meng Yun Xian arrived at the study, he saw Han Qing, dressed in casual clothes, sitting in a folding chair, lost in thought. He entered the room. “Director Han, what brings you here?”

    “Minister Meng.” Han Qing immediately put down his teacup and stood up to greet him. “You’ve just returned to the capital, and I shouldn’t be disturbing you at this time, but I believe the opportunity you’ve been waiting for has arrived.”

    “Oh?” Meng Yun Xian sat down beside Han Qing and gestured for him to sit as well. “What do you mean?”

    Han Qing sat down and took a letter from his sleeve, handing it to Meng Yun Xian. “Please take a look, Minister.”

    Meng Yun Xian took the letter and read it carefully by the candlelight.

    “If this Ni Su is the deceased’s younger sister, why is she being held in the Silu Prison?”

    “She told the Guangning Prefecture Yamen that she was guided by a dream, which is how she found her way to Qingyuan Mountain. Magistrate Yin found her claims absurd and ordered her to be held in the Silu Prison and subjected to the welcome beating,” Han Qing replied truthfully.

    “Guided by a dream?” Meng Yun Xian chuckled. “Is this woman currently in your custody at the Yin Ye Si?”

    “Yes,” Han Qing nodded.

    Meng Yun Xian pondered for a moment, then put away the letter, his expression brightening. “You’re right, Director Han. This winter examination scholar, Ni Qinglan, is our opportunity.”

    ***

    Inside the Yin Ye Si, shielded from the falling rain, the officers on night duty chatted and ate in the guard room across from the torture chamber. Someone had brought food for the unconscious Ni Su and left it on the table.

    But she couldn’t get up, nor did she respond.

    “That young woman can’t even sit up. I doubt she can eat,” the officer who had brought the food said to his colleagues upon returning to the guard room.

    “What? Do you want to feed her yourself?” someone teased. “Or perhaps find a servant for her?”

    “The Director hasn’t even interrogated her yet. I’m just worried she might die,” the officer said, throwing peanut shells at his teasing colleague.

    “We’ll ask the Director when he arrives and see if we can find a medic for her.”

    The muffled voices from the guard room reached Ni Su’s ears. She slowly opened her eyes and saw the young man in the dim cell, patiently feeling his way around the table.

    She watched as his hands touched the porcelain bowl on the table. He paused, then felt the spoon, and slowly, step by step, made his way towards her.

    “Ni Su,” Xu He Xue said softly, unaware that she was awake, as he sat down beside her bed.

    “Mmm,” Ni Su replied.

    Xu He Xue, surprised by her quick response, said, “You haven’t eaten anything all day.”

    He picked up the spoon and scooped up some porridge, slowly extending his hand towards her.

    “A little to the left,” Ni Su said weakly, her voice hoarse, seeing his hand move in the wrong direction.

    Xu He Xue moved his hand slightly to the left.

    “A little further.”

    He moved his hand again.

    Ni Su’s lips touched the warm porridge on the spoon, and she opened her mouth to eat. But looking at Xu He Xue, she noticed that his figure seemed much fainter.

    Faint, shimmering dust floated around him.

    She weakly tugged at his sleeve.

    Xu He Xue, unable to see and caught off guard, his sleeve pulled back slightly, revealing the bloody, gaping wounds beneath.

    It struck Ni Su then that he must be suffering for being so far from her.

    Yet, he had still gone to have that letter written.

    She watched as he adjusted his sleeve. Glancing at the brightly lit guard room, she ignored the throbbing pain and sat up, her dark hair damp with sweat, her face pale. Gripping the iron bars, she banged on the cell door’s lock. “Someone! Help!”

    Her cries made her throat feel like it was on fire.

    Xu He Xue, unsure why she was doing this, heard movement from the guard room and silently put down the bowl.

    “Miss, what are you doing?” an officer asked, approaching the cell.

    “Please bring me some candles and a flint and steel,” Ni Su said, gasping for breath.

    Hearing the word “candles,” Xu He Xue’s long eyelashes fluttered, his lifeless eyes turning towards her voice.

    The officers, puzzled, exchanged glances, then brought a few unlit candles from the guard room. However, following Yin Ye Si procedure, they didn’t leave after giving her the flint and steel. They watched as the young woman struggled to sit up and, with trembling hands, lit the candles one by one.

    Assuming she was afraid of the dark, they took back the flint and steel. Worried she might harm herself, they placed the lit candles on high sconces embedded in the wall, out of her reach, before returning to the guard room.

    The flickering candlelight illuminated the quiet cell, a beacon of light for Xu He Xue.

    He could now see Ni Su’s battered state after the beating. She was covered in blood, her damp hair clinging to her cheeks. She looked incredibly fragile, lying weakly on the bed, her head resting on her hand. “I… I don’t want to be seen like this,” she whispered.

    Xu He Xue looked down at her for a moment, then picked up the bowl of porridge and brought a spoonful to her lips. “I know.”

    He, too, had once felt that way.

    “But… I’m willing to light the candles for you,” Ni Su said softly, taking a sip of the porridge he offered.

  • Summoning the Soul 14

    Chapter 14: Bodhisattva Barbarian (Part 2)

    A thick mist hung over the Silu Prison, the dampness seeping into the cells. Ni Su huddled on the rough wooden bed. The sudden clang of chains startled her awake.

    A shadow flickered on the rough wall, accompanied by the sound of approaching footsteps. The shadow grew larger, looming over her.

    A hand clamped down on the back of her neck. Ni Su woke with a start, a hand covering her mouth. Her throat was raw, her body weak. She struggled, but it was useless. The figure behind her reached into a pile of straw, grabbed a bloodstained handkerchief, and wrapped it around her neck.

    The handkerchief tightened. Ni Su’s eyes widened, her face turning red as she struggled to breathe. She looked up and saw a pair of fierce, menacing eyes.

    The man, dressed as a jailer, took advantage of her weakened state, pressing his knee into her back, one hand covering her mouth, the other pulling the handkerchief tighter.

    Ni Su’s face grew redder, the pressure on her chest making it difficult to breathe. The damp blood on the handkerchief stained her neck. A cruel smirk flickered in the man’s eyes as her struggles weakened. Just as he was about to tighten his grip further, he cried out in pain.

    Ni Su had bitten his finger. Numb with pain, she didn’t know how hard she had bitten, only that she clenched her jaw tighter.

    The man, his face contorted in pain, pulled the handkerchief even harder, forcing Ni Su’s head back.

    Her slender neck felt like it was about to snap. The suffocating pain intensified, and she could no longer hold onto his finger.

    Just as the man was about to tighten his grip with both hands, a gust of cold wind swept through the cell, making the lamp flicker. But this deep, dark prison had no windows. Where had the wind come from?

    A chill ran down the man’s spine. He was about to turn around when something struck the back of his neck. His neck snapped with a sickening crack, and he collapsed to the ground.

    Released from the suffocating grip, Ni Su gasped for air, coughing violently. She couldn’t open her eyes. She felt a cold hand gently stroke her back and heard a voice call her name, “Ni Su.”

    The coughing stopped. Xu He Xue checked her breathing, the warm air against his cold fingers strangely ticklish.

    “She was subjected to the welcome beating, but Master Tian called for a medic to treat her wounds…” The jailer, leading several Yin Ye Si officers towards the cell, looked up and froze. “What… what happened here?”

    The chains and lock that should have been securing the cell door were lying on the ground.

    The Yin Ye Si officers, their faces grim, reacted quickly, kicking open the cell door. The head jailer and several other jailers hurried in after them.

    One of the officers checked Ni Su’s breathing, then turned to the others, pointing at the unconscious man on the floor. “Do you recognize him?”

    “Y-yes… Qian San,” one of the jailers stammered.

    The officer’s face remained expressionless. “Let’s take this woman back to the Yin Ye Si,” he said to the others.

    Then, addressing the head jailer and the other jailers, he said, “This jailer is suspected of attempted murder. We’ll take him back to the Yin Ye Si as well. A formal report will be sent to Magistrate Yin.”

    The head jailer, terrified, could only nod.

    Ni Su dreamt of her throat burning, dry and painful. Her mind was hazy, filled with images of the mud Buddha temple on Qingyuan Mountain.

    She dreamt of the broken back of the statue, revealing its hollow interior. Countless soul fires, like fireflies, flickered within, slowly forming the image of her brother.

    Ni Su woke with a start, gasping for air.

    She realized she was in an unfamiliar place. A few lamps were embedded in the smooth brick walls. Outside the iron cell door was a square pool with a wooden frame and iron chains. The pool’s walls were stained with old, dark red marks. The faint scent of blood lingered in the air.

    A bowl of water was suddenly offered to her. Ni Su instinctively flinched, then looked up and saw a pair of vacant, lifeless eyes.

    Xu He Xue, hearing no response and feeling no contact with the bowl, said, “Drink some. You’ll feel better.”

    He had been sitting there with the bowl of water for the past few hours while she was unconscious.

    Ni Su’s mouth tasted of blood and rust, from when she had bitten the man’s finger. She didn’t speak, obediently taking a sip from the bowl, then spitting it out.

    The metallic taste lessened, and she took a few more sips, each one an effort. When Xu He Xue moved the bowl away, she rested her cheek against the bed and asked hoarsely, “Where is this?”

    “The Yin Ye Si,” Xu He Xue said, placing the bowl aside. “It’s much safer for you here than in the Guangning Prefecture’s Silu Prison.”

    The Yin Ye Si, under the Emperor’s direct command, controlled the keys and tallies of the palace, supervised officials, gathered intelligence, and answered to no one but the Emperor. It was known as the “Underworld of the Mortal Realm.”

    “What did you do?” Ni Su asked weakly, her chapped lips barely moving.

    “I asked someone to write a letter informing Director Han Qing of the Yin Ye Si about your situation. The Emperor is re-implementing new policies, and the winter examination was his first decree. Your brother was a scholar participating in the examination. The Yin Ye Si will investigate this thoroughly.”

    There were other reasons as well. Director Han Qing had once been indebted to Grand Councilor Meng Yun Xian and was likely loyal to him. And Meng Yun Xian, having just been appointed, hadn’t yet made his first move.

    If he hadn’t made his move yet, then the winter examination was a good place to start.

    “I didn’t expect someone to try to harm you so quickly.”

    Xu He Xue had taken the risk of sending the letter to the Yin Ye Si because he feared that whoever had hidden the body, upon discovering their secret was exposed, would silence Ni Su permanently.

    Compared to the Guangning Prefecture Yamen, the Yin Ye Si was an impenetrable fortress. Outsiders couldn’t easily reach inside.

    “Someone who could receive news so quickly must be no ordinary person.” When Investigator Tian Qi Zhong had brought her and her brother’s body back to the city, it was still early. Only a few people near the Yamen had seen them. To be able to hear about it, know she was in the Silu Prison, and bribe a jailer to kill her so quickly—these weren’t things an ordinary person could do.

    Despair and grief tinged her hoarse voice. “Xu Zi Ling, based on their timeline, my brother was murdered while I was traveling with you.”

    Xu He Xue was silent for a moment, then said, “Once the Yin Ye Si gets involved, the truth will come to light.”

    “Will it?” Ni Su asked doubtfully.

    “Are you giving up?” Xu He Xue, unable to see, could only sense her direction. “Ni Su, if you were truly giving up, you wouldn’t have bribed a jailer in the Silu Prison to send a letter to the Grand Commandant’s residence.”

    Ni Su didn’t reply.

    The letter she had sent to the Grand Commandant’s residence was actually written by Cen Shi. Years ago, during the southern bandit rebellion, Ni Su’s grandfather had saved the life of the Zezhou governor, surnamed Cai. His granddaughter, Lady Cai, was now the wife of the Grand Commandant’s second son.

    Cen Shi had written the letter, mentioning this past event, hoping to give Ni Su a place to seek refuge in Yun Jing.

    “Where did you get the money to pay someone to write the letter?” Ni Su suddenly asked.

    Xu He Xue, caught off guard, hesitated, then lowered his eyelashes. “I used yours. I’ll return it to you when you leave the Yin Ye Si.”

    “You’ve been dead for over a decade. Do you still have money in Yun Jing?” Ni Su coughed, her throat feeling like it had been cut by knives.

    “I also have an older brother. He’s much older than me. At home, he was always under the control of his wife and often short of money.” Xu He Xue, hoping to distract her from her pain, spoke of his past life. Memories surfaced, and a flicker of emotion crossed his cold features. “I was young then, and afraid that I would also marry a shrew who wouldn’t let me buy sweet cakes, so I buried some money under a crooked tree.”

    Ni Su, her body aching, her mind sluggish, understood that he was trying to comfort her. Tears welled up in her eyes from the pain, but she managed a weak smile. “You like sweet cakes?”

    Xu He Xue thought for a moment. “I don’t remember what they taste like anymore.”

    Ni Su hummed in response. The candlelight in the cell was dim. She looked at him. “You asked someone to write that letter for me. I can’t possibly ask you to repay me.”

    “Xu Zi Ling, when I get out of here, I’ll buy you sweet cakes.”

  • Summoning the Soul 13

    Chapter 13: Bodhisattva Barbarian (Part 1)

    “That mud Buddha temple on Qingyuan Mountain has been abandoned for over a decade. Who would have thought there was a corpse hidden inside the statue…”

    Inside the Guangning Prefecture Yamen’s meeting hall, Assistant Magistrate Yang, his crimson robes still damp from the rain, wiped the fuzz from a peach with a handkerchief. Remembering the corpse he had seen in the morgue before dawn, he lost his appetite, put down the peach, and picked up his teacup. “I heard it was the scholar’s own younger sister who smashed the back of the statue and discovered the body.”

    “Younger sister?” Assistant Magistrate Tao, who had been leaning back in his chair, massaging his rheumatic leg, sat up straighter. “A remote, abandoned temple… how could a young woman know that her brother was sealed inside that Buddha statue?”

    Even the beggars who lived in the temple hadn’t known. How could she have found her way there and known about the corpse inside?

    “She claims it was a dream,” a judicial officer said respectfully.

    “A dream?” Assistant Magistrate Tao exclaimed, putting down his teacup. “What kind of explanation is that? Preposterous!”

    “Where is the young woman now?” Assistant Magistrate Yang frowned, irritated by the peach fuzz on his handkerchief.

    “She’s being held in the Silu Prison. The beggars reported the case to Magistrate Yin earlier. Magistrate Yin believes her explanation is insufficient to explain her presence at the temple and the circumstances surrounding the discovery of the body. Therefore, he ordered Investigator Tian Qi Zhong to take her to the Silu Prison for questioning,” the judicial officer continued.

    “So, she’s being subjected to the ‘welcome beating’?” Assistant Magistrate Tao exchanged a glance with Assistant Magistrate Yang and stroked his white beard. “This case is very strange…”

    The Tian Qi Zhong they were discussing was another judicial officer of the Guangning Prefecture. At this moment, in the rainy Silu Prison, he was interrogating a prisoner.

    “Miss Ni, do you still insist on your dream as an explanation?” Tian Qi Zhong, his face expressionless, sat behind his desk, scrutinizing the young woman lying face down on the torture bench.

    Her plum-green dress was stained with blood. Her temples were damp with sweat, strands of hair clinging to her cheeks. Her face was as pale as a sheet, her body trembling uncontrollably.

    “Yes,” Ni Su whispered, one hand gripping the edge of the bench.

    “We don’t speak of ghosts and spirits here.” Tian Qi Zhong frowned, his voice sharp. “Young woman, confess the truth!”

    He gave a signal, and a guard raised a water-fire staff and brought it down hard, eliciting a near-silent scream from Ni Su. Her trembling intensified. In the dim light, half her face was pressed against the bench, her pale neck, exposed beneath her sweat-soaked hair, looking thin and fragile.

    The pain from the beating didn’t numb; it only intensified with each strike, making her flesh crawl. She could feel the stickiness of blood soaking into her clothes.

    “If you don’t believe in ghosts and spirits, sir, why do you carry a protective talisman?” she asked, her lips trembling as she forced out the words.

    Tian Qi Zhong froze, his hand instinctively going to his waist. Beneath his green official robe, he indeed wore a folded yellow talisman.

    His elderly mother had specifically requested he carry it. Although he didn’t believe in such things, he couldn’t refuse his mother’s wish.

    But the talisman was hidden beneath his robe. How did this woman know?

    “I said, I dreamt of the mud Buddha temple, and I dreamt of myself smashing the back of the statue,” Ni Su gasped, each word a struggle. “I even dreamt of you, sir. The path was slippery from the rain, and your talisman fell on the ground. Then the guard beside you picked it up…”

    The more she spoke, the more uneasy Tian Qi Zhong became.

    “Oh my, Master Tian, how could she know…” The guard standing beside him covered his mouth in astonishment.

    That morning, as soon as the West City Gate opened, the beggars had rushed to the Guangning Prefecture Yamen to report the case. Tian Qi Zhong had immediately gone to the temple on Qingyuan Mountain.

    Inside, they found a decomposing corpse and this young woman kneeling beside it.

    Tian Qi Zhong had ordered his men to take her into custody while he and a few guards followed slowly behind. He clearly remembered that when his talisman fell, the woman had already been escorted down the mountain path. She couldn’t have seen it.

    But this made the matter even more bizarre.

    Could it be… that she really had dreamt it? Tian Qi Zhong touched the outline of the talisman beneath his robe, uncertainty gnawing at him.

    “Sir, she’s fainted,” the guard standing by the torture bench suddenly said, interrupting Tian Qi Zhong’s thoughts.

    Tian Qi Zhong looked up and saw that the woman was indeed unconscious. She had responded to the interrogation with absurd claims. According to procedure, she should have been subjected to the welcome beating to teach her not to disrespect the Guangning Prefecture Yamen.

    But this frail woman had not only endured the beating but also stuck to her story.

    “Find a medic,” Tian Qi Zhong said, then, remembering that she was a woman, pointed to the nearby guard. “And have your wife come and help dress her wounds.”

    “Yes, sir,” the guard quickly agreed.

    Ni Su drifted in and out of consciousness, occasionally hearing muffled voices. She felt someone undressing her, carefully peeling away the blood-soaked fabric from her wounds. The pain was excruciating, but she was too weak to cry out or open her eyes.

    The scent of medicine was the most comforting smell to her. She instinctively tried to identify the ingredients, but her thoughts grew hazy. After a while, she managed to open her eyes slightly.

    The dim prison cell was silent.

    But a figure stood there, clean and pristine. The cell blocked the daylight, and the prison lamp was useless to him. His eyes were dark and lifeless.

    Perhaps hearing her shallow breaths, different from when she was unconscious, Xu He Xue turned towards her. He couldn’t see her, but he heard her soft sobs.

    He groped his way to her bedside and crouched down.

    “Xu Zi Ling,” Ni Su murmured, tears welling up in her eyes, “I’m in so much pain.” Her voice was hoarse and raspy.

    Xu He Xue was silent for a moment, then said, “I could have…”

    “We made a deal,” Ni Su interrupted, her half-open eyes unable to see his face clearly. “You’ve already helped me find my brother, but I haven’t helped you yet.”

    “Even without the beggars, I would have reported the case to the authorities. But then, how could I explain how I knew my brother was in the mud Buddha temple? They can easily find out that I arrived in Yun Jing yesterday. What means or connections do I have to find a person who’s been missing for months in a remote, abandoned temple on Qingyuan Mountain?”

    She slowly shook her head. “If it doesn’t make sense, then it doesn’t make sense. But if you use your powers to help me escape this beating, then either you’ll be discovered, or I’ll be treated as a demon.”

    “Since they know I just arrived in Yun Jing yesterday, I couldn’t possibly be the one who killed my brother. I’m a lone woman from Que County, with no power or influence, and no time or motive to harm him. They can’t close the case by blaming me.”

    In the mud Buddha temple, beside her brother’s decomposing body, Ni Su had thought all this through.

    The talisman on Tian Qi Zhong was also part of her plan. It wasn’t she who had seen it, but Xu He Xue. She had mentioned the talisman only to support her claim of a dream.

    The pain clouded Ni Su’s mind. She could barely see the young man before her. Tears blurred her vision, and she soon lost consciousness again.

    The prison cell was silent. Xu He Xue didn’t hear her voice again.

    A fine rain fell. The main gate of the Guangning Prefecture Yamen’s Silu Prison faced a long alley. Beyond the alley was a bustling street. A poor scholar with a handlebar mustache sat at his stall against the wall, having had no customers all morning.

    He sighed, then felt a cool breeze on his face. He opened his eyes slightly and saw a figure standing before his stall.

    The figure wore a veiled hat and a fur-trimmed winter coat. The old scholar found it odd, then heard a cold, calm voice from beneath the hat. “Please write a letter for me.”

    “Huh?” The old scholar saw the figure place a piece of silver on his stall. He quickly replied, “Alright, alright. Just tell me what you want to write, sir.”

    The old scholar hurriedly ground ink and began to write. But the more he wrote, the more alarmed he became. “Sir, where are you sending this letter?”

    The young man didn’t answer, so he didn’t dare ask again. He blew on the ink to dry it and handed the letter over.

    Even after the figure had walked some distance away, the old scholar couldn’t help but watch. He saw the young man crouch down and speak to a child, who then took the letter and ran off, skipping and jumping.

    Inside the Di Qian Gate, a few streets away from the Guangning Prefecture Yamen, was the headquarters of the Yin Ye Si, the Imperial Secret Service.

    Inside, Han Qing, the Director of the Zhi Jian Department, listened to a report from a subordinate.

    “Yesterday, the Emperor returned Minister Zhang’s former residence to him. After returning home, Minister Zhang personally gathered his belongings and burned them in the courtyard.”

    “Belongings?” Han Qing, a eunuch in his thirties, had a stern face and a clear, gentle voice.

    “Reporting to Director, twenty years ago, when the traitor Xu He Xue passed the imperial examination, he gifted Minister Zhang a painting he had done himself, titled ‘Fishing Alone in the Snow’. At the time, Minister Zhang praised it profusely and even wrote a poem on it, which became quite famous,” the subordinate replied respectfully.

    “Are you saying Minister Zhang burned that painting?” Han Qing asked, holding his teacup.

    “Yes, he burned it himself.”

    The subordinate, seeing the Director’s silence, cautiously added, “Director, you can now report to the Emperor that Minister Zhang has severed all ties with that traitor.”

    Rain pattered against the eaves. Han Qing held his teacup, lost in thought.

    “Director,” another subordinate hurried in and bowed. “A child came to the main gate, saying someone asked him to deliver this letter to you.”

    Han Qing glanced at the letter and gestured for someone to bring it to him.

    He put down his teacup, unfolded the letter, and scanned its contents, his brow furrowing. He looked up. “Where is the child?”

    The subordinate immediately brought the child in. Han Qing’s men questioned him repeatedly, but all they learned was that a young man had given him the letter.

    “Did anyone report a case to the Guangning Prefecture Yamen today? Was the deceased a scholar from Que County? Was the body found on Qingyuan Mountain outside the West City Gate?” Han Qing asked his subordinates.

    “I believe there was such a case,” a subordinate who had just arrived for his shift said. He lived near the Guangning Prefecture Yamen and had heard about it from his family. “I heard the scholar’s body was found inside a mud Buddha statue.”

    A scholar’s death, and a scholar who had come to Yun Jing for the winter examination.

    Han Qing looked down at the letter. The person who wrote it was certain he would investigate a case related to the winter examination. But who was this person?

    His gaze settled on the name “Ni Su” in the letter. “Is the deceased’s younger sister, Ni Su, currently held at the Guangning Prefecture Yamen’s Silu Prison?”

    “I heard the woman made absurd claims and is likely being subjected to the welcome beating,” the subordinate replied.

    Han Qing crumpled the letter and said sternly, “Take my seal and go to the Silu Prison immediately. Bring that woman to the Yin Ye Si.”

    Several subordinates hurried out into the rain.

    None of them noticed the tall figure standing under the eaves.

    Being so far from Ni Su was causing Xu He Xue immense pain. The candles she had lit for him yesterday had been consumed during their journey.

    His spirit form was growing fainter.

    Shimmering dust mingled with the rain and mist. Xu He Xue, supporting himself against a pillar, felt his wounds reopening. He stumbled forward, then stopped abruptly and turned around. He saw the eunuch standing in the hall, lost in thought.

    He didn’t recognize the man’s face.

    When he had left Yun Jing, the eunuch had been only eleven or twelve years old.

    Xu He Xue turned and his figure dissolved into the rain and mist.

    But voices echoed in his mind:

    “Minister Zhang personally gathered his belongings and burned them in the courtyard.”

    “He burned them himself.”

    “Minister Zhang has severed all ties with that traitor.”

    Xu He Xue looked up at the gray, overcast sky. The eaves of the building, with their ornate carvings, reminded him of the time, fourteen years ago, when he, full of youthful ambition, had listened to his teacher’s teachings.

    “Zi Ling, I hope you soar high and never abandon your aspirations.” His teacher’s words of encouragement still rang in his ears.

    But in the end, at fourteen, he had defied his teacher’s hopes and expectations.

  • Summoning the Soul 12

    Chapter 12: Riverside Immortal (Part 6)

    “My injuries are mostly from when I was alive. Don’t worry.”

    Beneath his clothes, his skin slowly cracked, the countless sword and knife wounds staining his garments. Xu He Xue tightened his sleeves, not wanting her to see.

    He had no flesh and blood body. The wounds and blood were manifestations of damage to his spirit form. Like a living person, he bore wounds and bled, but the blood was his diminishing soul fire.

    Whenever he used his powers in the mortal realm, his injuries, both from life and death, became a form of punishment.

    But he didn’t want to tell her this.

    “But helping me is causing you great pain.” Even though he often appeared frail, Ni Su could tell that his current condition was far worse than usual.

    No wonder he had walked so slowly from the Rainbow Bridge to the inn, much slower than before.

    “I know medicine, but it’s useless on you.” Ni Su crouched down, knowing he didn’t want her to touch him, and placed her hands on the edge of the bed. “Tell me, how can I help you?”

    Xu He Xue lowered his gaze, watching Ni Su leaning over him. The several candles behind her cast a warm, bright light, giving her hair a golden halo.

    “Light another candle,” he said.

    “Alright.” Ni Su immediately stood up and returned to the table, lighting another candle. She placed it carefully on the table and turned back to see Xu He Xue, supporting himself with one hand on the bedpost, slowly sitting up.

    He was looking out the window again.

    Ni Su followed his gaze. Silvery threads of light swirled around a single spark of soul fire by the window.

    “Ni Su,” his weak voice came from behind her. “I found him.”

    A light rain fell over Yun Jing, but the night market remained lively. People chatted and ate under the felt awnings, and the entertainment district by the river was brightly lit, its lights reflected in the Yunxiang River as boats with hanging lanterns slowly drifted under the bridges.

    The streets were crowded. Moreover, riding horses at night was forbidden in the capital. Ni Su ran through the crowd, the soft rain brushing against her face. Countless pairs of eyes lingered on her briefly, but she didn’t notice, focused only on following the soul fire that only she could see.

    The city gates of Yun Jing loomed like dark mountains in the dim light. Ni Su watched as the soul fire drifted over the city walls. She stopped abruptly, looking at the closed gates and the guards in their stiff armor.

    A gust of wind blew the rain sideways. Distant thunder rumbled. Suddenly, an arm wrapped around her waist. She looked up and saw a man’s profile.

    Thick, long eyelashes cast beautiful shadows on his cheeks. The lantern in Ni Su’s hand lifted into the air as they soared silently over the city walls.

    The lantern light flickered above. The guards at the gate and on the tower looked up almost simultaneously, but saw only the thickening rain and mist.

    The wind and rain beat against Ni Su’s face. Seeing shimmering dust swirling around them, she tugged at his sleeve. “Let’s go down quickly.”

    As soon as she spoke, Xu He Xue seemed to lose his strength, and they plummeted towards the trees below.

    The rain fell steadily. The expected pain didn’t come. Ni Su opened her eyes and saw the dark, crane-embroidered fabric of a cloak. She was lying in someone’s arms.

    An embrace colder than the rain on her face.

    “Xu Zi Ling, are you alright?” Ni Su quickly sat up.

    Xu He Xue shook his head, raising a long, slender finger. Ni Su followed his gesture and saw the floating soul fire.

    “Why is my brother outside Yun Jing City?” Unease and confusion filled Ni Su’s heart.

    “Follow it, and you’ll find out,” Xu He Xue said, supporting himself against a tree trunk as he stood up. Raindrops from the pine branches trickled down his fingers.

    The last flicker of the lantern flame was extinguished by the rain. Ni Su instinctively looked up at his eyes, dark and empty.

    She reached out, then hesitated, asking softly, “Can I touch you?”

    She remembered his silent resistance at the inn.

    Xu He Xue turned his head towards her voice, as if looking at her. Raindrops brushed against his face. He lowered his eyelids and slowly extended his hand.

    Ni Su, seeing his outstretched hand, took it without hesitation.

    Rainwater dripped through their intertwined fingers. Ni Su supported him as they followed the soul fire. Although there was no lantern light, the shimmering dust emanating from Xu He Xue provided enough illumination for her to see.

    The rain intensified in the mountains, and thunder crashed.

    In a dilapidated temple, a beggar sleeping against the wall woke with a start. Although it was early autumn and still warm, his ragged clothes were soaked, and he shivered.

    A small candle burned in the temple. The beggar looked up, rainwater dripping onto his face through the cracks in the roof.

    A rustling sound came from the altar. The beggar looked over and saw his grandfather examining a statue of Buddha by the flickering candlelight.

    “Grandpa, what are you looking at?” the beggar asked, wiping the rain from his face.

    The white-haired old beggar looked over and beckoned him. “Boy, come and look at the back of this Buddha statue.”

    The beggar, confused, crawled out of his pile of straw. Rainwater poured through the holes in the roof, making the floor wet and slippery. Barefoot, he carefully made his way over, grumbling, “The Buddha statues in the mountains are all made of mud by poor people like us. What’s there to see…”

    He stopped mid-sentence, hearing approaching footsteps. He and his grandfather turned and saw a flash of lightning illuminate a woman standing outside the rain-swept temple.

    Her plum-green skirt was stained with mud, raindrops clinging to the strands of hair around her face. Her gaze fell on the two beggars, then quickly shifted as she entered the temple, looking around.

    The beggars followed her gaze.

    The old beggar, accidentally burning his hand with candle wax, hissed in pain. Seeing the woman look at him, he asked, puzzled, “Miss, what are you doing here?”

    Encountering a young woman in a remote mountain temple on a rainy night struck him as odd.

    “When did you arrive here? Have you seen a young man?” Ni Su asked, the water squelching under her wet shoes.

    “This isn’t a pleasant place to be. Besides us, who would come to a place like this where you can’t even escape the rain?” the young beggar said.

    It was true. The temple was drafty and damp.

    But Ni Su had followed the soul fire here. If her brother, Ni Qinglan, wasn’t here, why would the soul fire lead her to this place?

    Lightning flashed, briefly illuminating the temple. The cold light of the lightning mingled with the warm glow of the candle the old beggar carefully shielded. Ni Su saw the soul fire again.

    She followed it, quickly walking behind the mud Buddha statue.

    The soul fire vanished.

    Rainwater pattered against the broken roof tiles.

    Ni Su looked around frantically. The temple was small, nothing but crumbling walls and broken windows. A flash of lightning illuminated her face. She froze and turned abruptly.

    The light cast sharp shadows on the Buddha statue’s painted shoulders and neck.

    The statue’s broad back was a different color than the rest, like fresh, un-dried mud.

    The beggars exchanged puzzled glances. Suddenly, the young woman picked up a brick and smashed it against the back of the statue.

    “What are you doing? Don’t disrespect the Buddha!” the old beggar cried, dropping the candle.

    Ni Su ignored him, continuing to strike the statue.

    Choking on the dust, she coughed. The brick finally broke through the statue’s back, chunks of mud falling away. The old beggar gasped. “The statue is hollow…”

    Something wrapped tightly in black cloth fell to the ground with a thud, cutting off the old beggar’s words.

    The stench of decay filled the damp air.

    Lightning flashed again. The young beggar saw a decomposing hand protruding from the black cloth and screamed in terror.

    The old beggar quickly covered his grandson’s eyes, then turned to see the pale-faced young woman take two steps forward, bend down, and reach out.

    Her hand trembled uncontrollably.

    She paused, then, with a sudden movement, ripped away the black cloth.

    Thunder roared, and the rain poured down.

    The old beggar turned away, retching.

    The corpse on the ground was unrecognizable, but Ni Su recognized the silver hairpin in his hair and the clothes her mother had sewn for him before he left.

    Her mind reeled. Her lips parted, trembling, but no sound came out.

    Terrified, the beggars, forgetting the rain, ran out of the temple.

    The night rain intensified.

    Ni Su’s knees buckled, and she collapsed to the ground.

    “Brother…” Tears streamed down her face as she buried her hands in the mud. “Brother…”

    Xu He Xue, his figure faint, slowly made his way towards the door, his hand on the frame for support. He was so translucent that the fleeing beggars hadn’t even noticed him.

    “Ni Su?” he called softly.

    A single candle still burned in the temple, but its light didn’t reach him. His world was dark. He didn’t hear Ni Su’s reply, only her choked sobs and the whispered word, “Brother.”

    Her cries mingled with the sound of the rain.

    Xu He Xue groped his way forward, slowly, until he reached her side.

    He tentatively reached out, his hand moving downwards, until he touched her shoulder, his fingers wet with rain.

    She was drenched.

    Xu He Xue untied the sash of his dark cloak, leaned down, and gently draped it over her.

  • Summoning the Soul 11

    Chapter 11: Riverside Immortal (Part 5)

    Yun Jing, a city where the prosperity of the world converged, with its magnificent imperial palace and fragrant osmanthus smoke.

    The sky was overcast today. Music drifted faintly from the entertainment district. The Rainbow Bridge over the Yunxiang River was wide, and the vendors on either side, ignoring their usual calls, craned their necks to look towards the Imperial Street in the distance.

    Boatmen on the river were also distracted, all vying for a better view.

    “Is that the one in purple robes Minister Meng?” someone asked, pointing to the prominent figure in purple amidst the sea of green, red, and blue officials.

    “Who else could it be?” A bare-chested man wiped the sweat from his forehead. “Minister Meng was officially appointed after returning from Wen County. Now, favored by the Emperor, he still remembers to personally welcome his old friend back to the capital.”

    “Hardly an ‘old friend’,” a white-bearded old man in scholar’s robes said on the bridge. “Back then, one was demoted, and the other exiled. They severed ties right at the city gate. Many people witnessed it. Besides, Minister Meng is now the Tong Ping Zhang Shi, a true Grand Councilor, while that Minister Zhang? Exiled for fourteen years. I heard his son died on the way to exile, and his wife passed away from illness two years ago. Now he returns alone, subordinate to the former friend he cut ties with, appointed as Can Zhi Zheng Shi, the Vice Minister. Their relationship must be strained.”

    As they spoke, a carriage, old and cramped, covered in mud, appeared at the end of the clean, well-maintained Imperial Street.

    The old coachman urged the horses forward. The wind lifted the torn curtain, revealing a figure sitting inside.

    “Minister Zhang has arrived,” a green-robed official said with a smile, seeing the carriage.

    The purple-robed minister standing at the front of the group of officials was about fifty years old, his temples streaked with gray. A jade hairpin held his hair in place. His eyes were clear and bright.

    He silently watched as the carriage came to a stop. Only when the coachman helped a white-haired old man out of the carriage did a look of surprise cross his face.

    Among the officials sent to welcome Vice Minister Zhang Jing back to the capital were several of his former students. Seeing their teacher after fourteen years, they were stunned, their eyes reddening.

    Zhang Jing looked much older than they remembered, his back slightly hunched, his hair completely white, his face thin and wrinkled. He leaned on a cane as he walked towards them.

    He was only five years older than Minister Meng Yun Xian, but now he was frail and walked with difficulty.

    “Brother Chong Zhi…” The purple-robed minister’s voice was filled with complex emotions as Zhang Jing approached.

    “Thank you, Minister Meng, and all of you, for coming to welcome me,” Zhang Jing said, averting his gaze and giving a slight nod. His distant demeanor cooled the atmosphere.

    He continued forward, his steps unsteady. The assembled officials parted to make way for him. His former students cried out, “Teacher!”, but Zhang Jing ignored them.

    “Minister Zhang.” A crimson-robed official, having been ignored after his greeting, straightened up.

    Zhang Jing stopped and turned, scrutinizing the official’s face. His gaze settled on a dark mole near the official’s temple. “It’s you.”

    “Your humble servant, Jiang Xian Ming. I’m honored that Minister Zhang still remembers me,” Jiang Xian Ming said. He was middle-aged, with a neatly trimmed dark beard and a proper demeanor.

    “How could I forget? When I left Yun Jing, you, Minister Jiang, were at the height of your career. Fourteen years have passed. I hear you’re now the Yu Shi Zhong Cheng, the Chief Censor?” Zhang Jing leaned heavily on his cane.

    Jiang Xian Ming met the old minister’s gaze. “Minister Zhang, are you still angry about what happened in Yongzhou…”

    “Don’t mention him to me,” Zhang Jing interrupted, his expression darkening.

    The atmosphere became tense. There were no commoners on the Imperial Street. He Tong, a scholar from the Hanlin Academy, said indignantly, “Minister Jiang, my teacher has just returned to the capital. Why bring up that traitor? The Emperor has allowed my teacher to rejoin the Grand Council. What is the meaning of this public confrontation?”

    “Scholar He, there’s no need for this. I was merely curious why Minister Zhang ignored his former students who were present,” Jiang Xian Ming said, taking two steps forward and lowering his voice. “Or is it that in Minister Zhang’s eyes, there are more important students than you?”

    “What do you mean by that, Minister Jiang?” Meng Yun Xian suddenly interjected. Seeing Jiang Xian Ming lower his head, he smiled. “Minister Zhang dislikes crying and wailing. It’s not surprising that he ignored his students’ undignified display in public.”

    Jiang Xian Ming looked at Zhang Jing, surrounded by his former students. Despite his age and frailty, he still exuded an air of aloofness and pride.

    After a moment, Jiang Xian Ming bowed deeply again, his demeanor softening, now respectful. “I apologize if I offended you, Minister Zhang. I haven’t forgotten your harsh words at the city gate before you left Yun Jing. I came today sincerely to welcome you back, not to cause trouble. Fifteen years have passed. I admit that when I was the governor of Yongzhou, my decision to execute the traitor Xu He Xue by slow slicing was fueled by public outrage, and my own anger, and was indeed driven by personal motives. There is no such punishment as slow slicing in the laws of Great Qi. I carried out the punishment before reporting to the Emperor. I am indeed guilty.”

    “Hasn’t the Emperor already pardoned you, Minister Jiang?” another official said cautiously. “What you did was in accordance with the will of the people. There’s no need to dwell on it. That traitor betrayed the country. If not by slow slicing, he should have been beheaded.”

    “But I want to ask Minister Zhang,” Jiang Xian Ming continued, still bowing, “what are your thoughts on this now?”

    What thoughts?

    The smile in Meng Yun Xian’s eyes faded, but he remained silent. Zhang Jing’s students were about to speak up for their teacher when he raised his hand, silencing them.

    The sky was overcast and gray. Willow trees lined the banks of the Yunxiang River. The music from the entertainment district was faint. Zhang Jing leaned on his cane, the familiar Yun Jing breeze rustling his sleeves. “That traitor ceased to be my student fourteen years ago.”

    Zhang Jing’s students, led by He Tong, breathed a collective sigh of relief.

    The official most feared in the court was the Chief Censor, Jiang Xian Ming, known for his uprightness and severity. He held the power of impeachment and was authorized by the Emperor to investigate rumors, even without concrete evidence. Even a single word could become grounds for impeachment.

    Moreover, who could guarantee that his questioning today wasn’t at the Emperor’s behest?

    “Your humble servant, Jiang Xian Ming, welcomes Minister Zhang back to the capital.” Jiang Xian Ming bowed again, his expression now truly respectful.

    The officials on the Imperial Street came and went, escorting the two Grand Councilors towards the Forbidden Palace. The guards stationed along the street also dispersed.

    “Xu Zi Ling?” Ni Su, having watched the spectacle from the bridge, turned around and saw that the spirit beside her seemed even more translucent. The sky was overcast, the sunlight weak. He stared blankly at something in the distance.

    “Who did you see?” Ni Su looked back, but the Imperial Street was now empty.

    The breeze rustled the willow branches, and the river shimmered. This was a place Xu He Xue had left many years ago, a place he had almost forgotten. But standing here now, the past seemed as clear as yesterday.

    “My teacher,” he said.

    The teacher who, fourteen years ago, in the Xie Chun Pavilion by Yong’an Lake, had told him, “If you dare to go, don’t ever come back to see me again.”

    “Do you want to see him?” Ni Su asked.

    Xu He Xue didn’t answer, his gaze returning to her face. After a while, he said, “I still have your brother’s soul fire. If I release it, I can find his whereabouts.”

    The fact that the soul fire hadn’t changed along their journey meant Ni Qinglan hadn’t left Yun Jing.

    As soon as he finished speaking, Ni Su saw him raise his hand. With a gesture she couldn’t understand, tiny sparks, smaller than fireflies, flew from his sleeve. Ni Su followed their trajectory as they floated over Yun Jing City, disappearing behind the towering buildings and rooftops.

    “How long will it take?” Ni Su asked, gazing at the rooftops.

    The silvery sparks disappeared from Xu He Xue’s fingertips. His face grew paler, and the countless wounds hidden beneath his sleeves cracked open, crimson blood trickling down his wrist and into his palm, turning into shimmering dust as it dripped onto the bridge. He suppressed a grimace of pain, his voice calm. “The soul fire is weak. It might take some time.”

    As Ni Su turned back, he lowered his sleeve, the dark cloak hiding the bloodstains.

    “The Yanzhou scholar who’s friends with my brother mentioned the inn they stayed at in Yun Jing in his letter. Why don’t we go there first?”

    “Alright,” Xu He Xue nodded.

    As soon as they arrived at the Qing Fu Inn, Ni Su, as usual, asked for two rooms. After leaving her bag in her room, she went downstairs to speak with the innkeeper.

    “Miss, the winter examination this time was a special imperial examination ordered by the Emperor. There’s no precedent for it. It was because the Emperor wanted to welcome Ministers Meng and Zhang back to the capital and implement new policies that this examination was held to select new talent. During that time, not only our inn, but all the inns in the city were full of scholars. With so many people, how can I remember the specific person you’re asking about?” The innkeeper, exasperated, waved his hands. “If you ask me about the top three candidates in the palace examination, I might be able to tell you their names. But none of the scholars staying here passed.”

    Ni Su didn’t get any useful information, nor did she know which room her brother had stayed in.

    As dusk settled, Yun Jing’s night market came alive, a different kind of bustle than during the day. The sound of music from the entertainment district drifted through the window, but Ni Su was in no mood to appreciate the city’s unique charm. After a few bites of food, she put down her chopsticks and went to the door next door, knocking softly.

    Xu He Xue, lying on the bed, opened his eyes. He struggled to sit up, his voice hoarse. “Come in.”

    Hearing his voice, Ni Su pushed the door open. The several candles burning on the table were the ones she had lit for him earlier. She approached and saw Xu He Xue sitting on the bed, wrapped in his cloak.

    “You look unwell,” she said, looking at him.

    “It’s nothing,” Xu He Xue said, smoothing his sleeves to hide his wrists.

    Ni Su sat down on the folding chair opposite him. Picking up a candle, she lit another one. “I wanted to ask, what’s your old friend’s name? And how old is he?”

    Hearing the word “age,” Xu He Xue looked up at her.

    “Ni Su, I never said my old friend was a woman.”

    “Not a woman?” Ni Su looked at him, the bright candlelight revealing the embroidery on his sleeve. “I’m sorry. I saw the delicate embroidery on your sleeve, so…”

    She had naturally assumed that the person who had prepared the winter clothes for him was a woman. After all, men didn’t usually embroider names on clothes.

    “He had a childhood sweetheart. The embroidery must be her work,” Xu He Xue explained.

    “I misunderstood.” Ni Su blushed, looking at the young man sitting on the bed. He was pale and frail, his lips bloodless, yet his clothes were immaculate, and he possessed an air of elegance.

    Xu He Xue was about to speak when he saw silvery threads of light swirling outside the window, but they weren’t the soul fire he had released earlier.

    His expression changed, and he instinctively stood up, but a wave of dizziness washed over him.

    Ni Su saw him stumble and quickly rushed to support him. As she touched him, his wrist felt like ice, sending a shiver down her spine.

    But she didn’t let go, helping him back onto the bed. “What’s wrong…”

    Her fingers brushed against something cold and wet. She trailed off, her gaze falling on his white sleeve, stained crimson with blood beneath his cloak. Blood trickled down his arm, staining his pale hand. His long fingers curled, the veins on the back of his hand standing out.

    A silent testament to the pain he was enduring.

    Ni Su released his hand, watching as the blood on her palm, his blood, turned into shimmering dust and vanished in the candlelight. Realization dawned on her. She looked up sharply.

    “Helping me find my brother… is it hurting you?”