Chapter 10

Her slender waist was wrapped in a coil of black snake.
The serpent’s tongue flicked in and out as its head drifted up beside her ear. In its pitch-black eyes, a faint light glimmered.
Shen Qing’s ears prickled with cold.
At some point, Qiuren had slipped away from Li Daoxuan’s side and wound itself around her instead.
Cuizhi was nearly scared out of her wits. She bit back her terror and made to rush over and pry the snake off, but Shen Qing stopped her. “Don’t panic. This snake only goes after evil spirits. It doesn’t harm people.”
To prove her point, she tentatively reached up and patted Qiuren’s head.
Thankfully, the serpent was cooperative. It nudged her palm with the small horn above its brow, then tucked its head into the crook of her shoulder and went still.
Li Daoxuan’s snake was famously intelligent. Shen Qing had never heard of it attacking anyone. Seeing Qiuren settle down quietly, she finally let out a breath.
She swept her gaze around again, but there was no sign of Li Daoxuan anywhere. That, at least, eased her nerves a little.
The ghost had reached the barrier now. Their sunken heads and twisted limbs pressed against the invisible wall as they clawed and pounded, long tongues hanging to their chests, eyes rolled up to blank white, grotesque enough to chill the bone.
One of the noble girls began to shake all over, nearly collapsing. Her maid and house matron clutched at her arms and barely kept her upright.
There were at least a hundred souls gathered here.
By the time Shen Qing finished drawing every last Purity Talisman she could, she had only a few dozen slips.
“Talismans are limited,” she said, voice clear, “so I must ask you ladies to share them in pairs or threes…ghost cannot harm your bodies directly, just keep your minds clear and your hearts steady.”
Having said that, she no longer cared how the others reacted. Shen Qing passed the stack of talismans to Cuizhi and left her to hand them out as she saw fit.
She had to find Li Yu.
Before she went, she grabbed the completely flustered Zhao Ranyan and pressed a bracelet into her hand.
It was a string of Buddhist bone beads, capable of warding off evil spirits.
“With this rosary, you won’t need a Purity Talisman,” Shen Qing instructed. “It’ll keep you safe.” Her gaze flicked toward Shen Ling in the distance, who’d only just recovered from her fright. Still uneasy, Shen Qing added, “Whatever happens, don’t let it leave your person.”
Zhao Ranyan drew in a sharp breath. “Then what about you, Lady Shen…” Before she could finish, Shen Qing had already hurried off.
She’d scanned the grounds just now and hadn’t seen a trace of Li Yu. Anxious, she snagged a passing servant. “Where is the princess?”
Clutching his Purity Talisman, the servant shook like a leaf. “After speaking with Third Highness, Her Highness went into Springview Terrace!”
Shen Qing immediately grabbed a fruit knife and headed for Springview Terrace.
Ghost were picky about their hosts.
The more pampered and frail the person, and the weaker their will, the more likely they were to be targeted. As for the nearly thousand imperial guards stationed around Mount Li, full of blazing energy and iron discipline, the ghosts avoided them like plague.
So only a handful of ghost drifted toward the men’s section. The dozen-odd remaining all crowded against the barrier on the women’s side, waiting to punch through and sift through the noble ladies for suitable vessels.
Shen Qing slipped out through the thinnest patch of yin energy. With a formation already set on her own body, none of the ghost took any notice of her, and she slipped away smoothly.
The yin energy in the mountains was so thick now that even the once-clear sky was blanketed in heavy clouds, pressing down until it was hard to breathe.
With a black snake still looped around her waist, Shen Qing forced her way through the dense ghostly mists.
In front of Springview Terrace’s long gallery.
While passing through, Li Yu’s robe had been snagged and torn by a stray branch. She’d planned to change clothes here and then return to the banquet, but no sooner had she stepped back out than the bright sky suddenly went dark, and all the palace attendants who’d been waiting outside had vanished.
Silence smothered everything. Beyond the eaves, a violent gale was howling.
Instinct told Li Yu that now was not the time to run about blindly. She stood beneath the covered walkway, gaze steady on the gloomy sky.
Then a harsh shout split the air. Li Yu turned, and saw a black-haired, white-faced ghost hurtling straight for her.
Her heart lurched; she stumbled backward in fright. Unfortunately, behind her was the wooden stair. One misstep, and she pitched straight down into the courtyard.
Her foot skidded on the rounded surface of a stone. As she went down, a lance of agony stabbed through her ankle. Sprained, she realized grimly.
The ghost had missed its mark. Midair, it twisted and swooped again, diving straight at Li Yu where she lay on the ground. Its jaws yawned wide, split all the way to the ears.
Terror crashed over her. Just as her soul felt ready to fly out of her body, the world went dark, someone clapped a hand over her eyes at the last possible instant.
A cool male voice brushed her ear, like a spring breeze smoothing over churning waters, calming her in a heartbeat. “I beg Your Highness’s pardon. This minister has no intention of offending.”
The man bent, placing his back between her and the charging ghost. That green-faced, fanged specter passed straight through their bodies like smoke, dissolving into a drifting cloud before coalescing again a moment later.
No matter how it raged and clawed, barreling toward them with murderous momentum, it simply couldn’t touch a hair on either of their heads.
The man watched its behavior, and understanding dawned in his eyes.
He tore a strip from the hem of his robe and tied it over Li Yu’s eyes. Then he slipped an arm behind her knees and, in one smooth motion, lifted her into his arms.
Li Yu barely caught a glimpse of his face before it was covered; next thing she knew, weightlessness seized her and she was swept up against a firm, steady chest.
For one stunned instant, she forgot entirely where she was. Her tongue worked faster than her mind. “How dare you!”
That cool, faint voice answered again, “Your Highness’s person is precious. I have no choice but to overstep. Please bear with me for the moment.”
He carried her into a nearby room. As soon as Li Yu’s bottom met the chair, her hand flew up to tear away the cloth over her eyes, only for him to say, “It’s still out there.”
Her hand froze.
The ghost drifted after them into the room, circling. Sensing nothing but clarity and uprightness from the two people inside, not a trace of filth, it recognized they were unfit as vessels. After a few aimless loops, it finally drifted off in search of easier prey.
A long moment later, Li Yu’s voice trembled, “Has it gone?”
“It has,” Gu Ze replied truthfully.
Li Yu tore the cloth from her eyes and immediately found herself caught by the sight of the man before her.
He stood with head slightly bowed, gaze lowered to the floor. He wore a coarse white robe washed so many times the fabric had gone faint and thin. A corner of it was torn, yet it still couldn’t hide the clear, snow-white coolness of his aura.
“Raise your head,” Li Yu said quietly.
Gu Ze lifted his eyes just a fraction, finally meeting hers.
In that instant, it was as if a figure stepped out of a painting and came to life.
Li Yu thought, What a cold, spotless piece of snow he is.
Seeing that the ghost truly had gone, she asked, “You’re from Xuanji Pavilion?”
Gu Ze shook his head slightly and cupped his hands in salute. “This minister, Gu Ze, Censor-in-Chief of the Imperial Secretariat, greets Your Highness.”
“Your name is Gu Ze?” she narrowed her eyes. “Was it you who drove that evil spirits away just now?”
Gu Ze shook his head. “That creature could not approach Your Highness or this minister. When it found itself unable to attach, it simply drifted off.”
Li Yu was about to press him further when an anxious voice called from outside, “Li Yu!”
Her heart leapt. That was Shen You’an’s voice. Thinking of the danger beyond the door, she moved to stand, only to be dragged back down by a sharp stab of pain in her ankle. She hissed through her teeth.
Gu Ze steadied her with a light hand. “Your Highness is injured. Allow this minister to answer.” He stepped outside and slid the door open.
Shen Qing had just reached Springview Terrace and ran face-first into Gu Ze as the door opened. He said, “Lady Shen, Her Highness is inside.”
Shen Qing froze for a heartbeat.
For no other reason than this: the man before her was the unlucky consort from Li Yu’s previous life.
Back then, Li Yu had somehow crossed paths with Censor-in-Censor Gu Ze, and it was love at first sight for her, no one else would do.
In the end, the emperor couldn’t stand her wheedling and dramatics. He granted the marriage.
As imperial consort, a prince-consort was not allowed to hold office. The emperor found a pretext to appoint someone else in Gu Ze’s place at Censorate, and as a lonely official with no backing, Gu Ze could only bow to imperial will and enter the princess’s manor as a man with his wings clipped.
But Gu Ze’s heart was set on the court, not romance. Li Yu had unilaterally decided his entire life for him, cutting away his ambitions in a single stroke. Unsurprisingly, he never treated her kindly. The two of them lived like a pair of resentful enemies under one roof.
Gu Ze died young, sick and heartsore.
Not long after, Li Yu died miserably in her own manor.
People said someone had long despised Li Yu’s willful behavior, and Gu Ze’s death had become the final spark that lit the fuse, retribution, they called it, when Li Yu was killed.
Looking at Gu Ze now, Shen Qing felt her heart pounding. No matter what, she had to keep them apart in this life. That way she could both protect a clear-hearted official, and keep Li Yu safe.
So she said, “Someone from Xuanji Pavilion should be arriving to subdue the evil spirits soon. Leave Her Highness to me, Censor Gu, and please, go find them.”
In the old days at Xuanji Pavilion, Shen Qing had often followed her senior brother out on travels and investigations. She’d seen plenty of officials and knew their faces well, so recognizing Gu Ze was no surprise. And Gu Ze, of course, had seen her face before, otherwise he wouldn’t have called her by surname at once.
“Lady Shen is too polite,” Gu Ze replied, then turned and left.
Shen Qing rushed inside. Seeing that Li Yu’s clothes were a little rumpled but she herself unharmed, Shen Qing finally let out a breath.
“Did you hurt anything?” she asked.
“My ankle,” Li Yu said. Her expression went slightly distant as she stared at the doorway. “Where is Gu Ze?”
Shen Qing’s brows pinched at once. “There’s no danger outside. I asked him to fetch help.” Gu Ze’s mind was firm and bright; he was definitely not the sort of target ghost liked.
Li Yu understood it was improper for her to remain alone in a room with a strange man, and that Shen Qing was protecting her reputation, but even so, it felt as if her heart had followed him out the door.
“Shen You’an,” she murmured, “I think I may… rather like him.”
Shen Qing ignored the breach in etiquette, grabbed her by the shoulders, and shook. “Wake up! Who falls for a man after one meeting? Don’t tell me you’re just dazzled by his face!”
Li Yu’s head swam from the shaking, but it did clear her somewhat. “Bold!” she snapped.
Shen Qing pulled a mock-terrified face. “This humble subject has overstepped, begging Your Highness’s forgiveness!”
Li Yu couldn’t hold the stern act for long; her lips curved into a smile.
Weighing her words and expression carefully, Shen Qing saw that Li Yu truly had no intention of chasing the topic of Gu Ze further. Only then did she let herself relax, if only a little. Even so, worry lingered.
From now on, she absolutely could not allow the two of them to cross paths again.
Just as that thought landed, something familiar coiled around her waist. She glanced down, and sure enough, the snake that had vanished midway had returned.
Whatever this snake had eaten, its midsection was a full ring thicker than before. It curled comfortably around Shen Qing’s waist, head resting on her shoulder, tail swaying lazily.
Li Yu, seeing Autumn Blade, who usually hated anyone touching it, being this affectionate with her good friend, stared in shock. “You and Li Daoxuan-”
“It’s not what you think! Let me explain!” Shen Qing blurted.
On the field, an arrow-feather streaked out like a shooting star, slicing through the air to pierce a ghost’s forehead. The golden head of the arrow began to spin rapidly, emitting a low, vibrating hum.
Stung, the ghost let out a shrill scream, yin energy surging wildly around it. But in the next instant, the spinning golden head detonated; its forehead blew apart, and its whole body disintegrated into dust, scattering into the air.
Li Daoxuan loosed several more arrows in succession, dispatching the nearby ghost one by one. Brow furrowed, he ordered the commander of the imperial guards, “Take everyone to Springview Terrace to shelter.”
“At once!”
Beside him, Gu Yun pointed anxiously toward the women’s section, where a heavy shroud of yin energy clearly marked the presence of even more ghost. “It’s worse over there. I’ll go ahead!”
With Li Daoxuan holding this side, Gu Yun couldn’t stay still a moment longer. Sword in hand, he sprinted toward the women’s seats, both because the danger was greater there, and because his beloved happened to be among them.
Once Li Daoxuan had finished the remaining ghosts with his bow, the cloying yin energy all around had grown so thick it seemed ready to scorch the heart and lungs.
He snapped, “Qiuren!”
He’d thought that once he gave the order, that stupid snake would bound over like always to gulp down the yin energy. Who knew that after a long moment with no movement at all, he’d look down and find that the black snake that had been quietly coiled at his waist had vanished without a trace.
Li Daoxuan fumed inwardly: Lazy, good-for-nothing thing, always dropping the chain at the critical moment!
With side-door methods for clearing yin energy no longer an option, Li Daoxuan had no choice but to pull out talismans himself and lay a formation to purify the air.
Only after the surrounding yin energy had been cleansed to a reasonable extent did he head toward the women’s section.
Cuizhi finished handing out the talismans. The noble ladies clutched the slips of paper with white-knuckled hands, huddling together in fright.
With its caster gone, the barrier formation shuddered under the ghost’s assault, on the verge of collapse.
Without realizing it, Zhao Ranyan had been squeezed all the way to the edge of the barrier. At her side, equally shoved over and just as terrified, stood Shen Ling.