Chapter 21: Frost Fills the Courtyard (Part 2)
“If you were still alive, you would have been a good official.”
Xu He Xue knew that Ni Su’s words, spoken with such conviction, stemmed from trust, or perhaps her own judgment of character.
Her words were meant as a compliment.
But they only deepened Xu He Xue’s inner turmoil.
He wasn’t a good official.
But he couldn’t tell her that now.
“Xu Zi Ling.” He heard her call his name again, his gaze falling on his sleeve, which she was holding. He looked up and met her tear-filled eyes.
“Since I could summon your spirit, can I also summon my brother’s?” Ni Su asked, her gaze intense.
If she could summon her brother’s spirit, she could find out who had harmed him.
Her eyes were filled with hope, but Xu He Xue shook his head. “You were able to summon me because of the Earth Lord of Youdu.”
This was the second time he had mentioned the Earth Lord. Ni Su remembered the white-haired, curly-bearded monk from the cypress grove at Da Zhong Temple. She retrieved the beast bead from a hidden pocket in her sleeve.
“This beast bead is carved in the image of the Earth Lord’s true form. He’s the deity who governs Youdu,” Xu He Xue said, looking at the bead.
As a deity, would he be so easily swayed by emotions? Such matters were beyond human control. The hope that had flickered in Ni Su’s heart dimmed. She clutched the beast bead, silent.
“Ni Su,” Xu He Xue offered her another sweet cake. “But with this beast bead and your brother’s remaining soul fire, I might be able to let you see him again.”
Ni Su looked up sharply, about to speak, but seeing the faint, shimmering dust around him, she glanced at his sleeve and shook her head. “But you’ll be injured.”
“The beast bead contains the Earth Lord’s power. I won’t need to use my own,” Xu He Xue said, sitting down on a cushion beside her. “But there are many souls in Youdu. Finding your brother through the beast bead might take a long time.”
It might not be in time.
“Even if I can’t hear it from him directly, I’ll find justice for him myself,” Ni Su said, looking at the two memorial tablets on the altar.
Xu He Xue didn’t reply, his gaze lingering on her profile, then shifting to the embroidery on his sleeve.
“Are you sure you won’t need to use your powers?” Ni Su asked, still uneasy, turning to look at him.
“Mmm,” he nodded.
“Then…” Although she was the one lighting the candles for him, Ni Su felt like he had lit a flame in her heart. “Are you still unwilling to tell me your old friend’s name?”
She had always wanted to help him, but he had never mentioned his friend’s name or asked her to take him anywhere.
“He’s not in Yun Jing at the moment,” Xu He Xue said.
“Then where is he?” Ni Su asked. “I can accompany you. Once I find my brother’s killer, no matter how far, I’ll go with you.”
She had stopped crying.
Her eyes were still red, but there were no more tears. She looked at him intently.
Hearing her say “no matter how far,” Xu He Xue looked up, meeting her gaze. Suddenly, rain began to fall on the banana leaves outside the porch.
“He’ll be back,” he said. “I don’t need you to accompany me anywhere far. Ni Su, some people and some things… can only be found in Yun Jing.”
The bright, orange candlelight illuminated Xu He Xue’s face. His lowered eyelashes hid his expression, but he seemed enveloped in a profound stillness, a stillness that didn’t belong to the mortal realm.
He rarely spoke of his past life, except for the childhood anecdote about his brother and sister-in-law he had shared with her in the Yin Ye Si prison.
He resisted her inquiries.
Ni Su didn’t know what he had endured, and she didn’t want to pry. As the rain fell, she thought for a long time, then said, “If there’s anything I can do to help, please tell me. Anything at all.”
In the candlelight, her clear eyes reflected her sincerity.
The rain pattered against the window. Xu He Xue met her gaze.
He remained silent. Ni Su, her attention drawn to the rain outside, finished the remaining sweet cake and looked at the rain-veiled courtyard. “It’s raining,” she said, then turned back to him. “You can’t bathe in this weather.”
Because there was no moon.
Xu He Xue looked at the rain falling outside the porch. “Can you take me to the Xie Chun Pavilion by Yong’an Lake tomorrow?”
“Alright,” Ni Su said, looking at him.
Having just retrieved her brother’s ashes, Ni Su couldn’t sleep. After applying medicine to her wounds, she went to light the incense and candles in the adjacent room.
Then she returned to the altar, knelt on the cushion, and, keeping watch over the flickering flames, reread her brother’s notes in the unfinished medical text.
Xu He Xue stood in the brightly lit room. The Four Books and Five Classics, several poetry collections, brushes, ink, paper, and inkstone were neatly arranged on the desk. Several paintings hung on the wall, seemingly vibrant but lacking substance. Ni Su had bought them from a street vendor earlier that day.
A gauze screen, light green curtains, teacups, a chessboard and box, fresh flowers in a vase, burning incense, a clean and tidy bed… all showed the care with which the room had been arranged.
Simple yet warm.
Each object Xu He Xue’s gaze fell upon seemed to trigger a distant memory.
He remembered having a much finer room than this, a youth spent surrounded by books and scholars, riding horses, playing chess, and drinking tea.
A cabinet against the wall was half-open. Xu He Xue walked over and touched the copper handle. With a slight creak, the cabinet door opened, revealing neatly folded men’s clothes, filling the entire cabinet.
The coldness of the copper handle couldn’t dispel the warmth in his fingers.
Xu He Xue froze, standing before the open cabinet, motionless.
He lay on the bed.
White smoke curled from the incense burner. The candles flickered.
He closed his eyes.
He saw swirling mist, the flowing River of Resentment, a dark sky lit by flashes of lightning, a towering pagoda suspended in the clouds, its flickering soul fire illuminating the surroundings.
“General! General, save me!”
“I hate the Great Qi!”
Countless voices, filled with resentment and anguish, assaulted his ears.
Xu He Xue’s eyes snapped open. Shimmering dust scattered around him. The wounds from his torture reappeared, his flesh tearing open. The cries echoed in his ears.
He felt the blood on his hands and realized the beast bead in his palm was burning hot, making his fingers curl and the veins stand out.
Sparks flew from the candles, and most of them were extinguished.
Pain consumed Xu He Xue’s mind. His figure faded, the shimmering dust radiating a powerful, malevolent energy. Cups shattered, and the incense burner overturned.
Ni Su, sitting before the altar, suddenly heard a commotion. She turned and saw snow falling outside the porch, mingling with the rain.
She stood up, her hands on the floor, and stumbled outside.
Almost all the candles in the opposite room had been extinguished. A sense of dread washed over Ni Su. Ignoring the rain and snow, she ran across the porch.
The door burst open.
The lantern on the porch illuminated the chaos inside. Flower petals were scattered among shards of porcelain. The screen had fallen, its white gauze stained with blood.
The scent of incense ash and blood filled the room.
The man lay on the floor amidst the broken porcelain, his long, dark hair disheveled, his usually neat collar open, revealing his throat and collarbone, rising and falling with his ragged breaths.
“Xu Zi Ling!” Ni Su’s pupils contracted. She rushed over to him.
She reached for his arm, her hand coming away bloody. A single flickering candle illuminated a gaping wound beneath his sleeve, a wound inflicted by a blade.
The sight was so gruesome, so terrifying, that Ni Su’s knees buckled, and she knelt beside him.
He looked up at her, his eyes unfocused, not recognizing her. He trembled, gasping for air, the veins in his neck standing out, an unnatural color for a living person.
His throat moved. The faint candlelight couldn’t penetrate his dark, empty eyes. The shimmering dust around him seemed to have sharp edges, no longer beautiful but painful against her skin.
“Xu Zi Ling, what’s wrong?” Ni Su wrapped her arms around his waist, trying to lift him, but his form was fading, becoming as insubstantial as mist. She glanced at the single remaining candle on the altar. Just as she was about to release him, he gripped her wrist tightly.
Caught off guard, Ni Su stumbled closer.
His grip was so strong it felt like he was crushing her bones.
She braced herself with her other elbow to avoid falling on him. She looked up and saw his eyes closed, his long eyelashes wet with blood.
His eyes were bleeding.
Ni Su tried to pull away, but he opened his eyes, blood staining his pale cheeks. His blood-red eyes made her tremble with fear.
She reached for the candle, but just as her fingers touched the edge of the candlestick, he lunged, his teeth sinking into her neck.
Consumed by an uncontrollable urge to destroy, Xu He Xue bit down hard, tearing her delicate skin.
The candlestick fell, and the flame died.
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