Chapter 41

After a long while, the stiff figure finally moved.
“Old Huang,” Li Daoxuan said hoarsely.
“Yes!” Old Huang jolted.
“Throw them away.” He casually tossed the items to Old Huang and reached for the towel in his hands to dry his hair.
Old Huang held the silk ribbons but did not move for quite some time. Under normal circumstances, he would have obeyed without question. But today, he sensed that his prince was particularly conflicted, and the ribbons were unmistakably a young lady’s belongings, so for the first time ever, he hesitated.
Sure enough, not long after, Li Daoxuan’s elegant brows suddenly drew together, his mind filled with the image of a girl baring her teeth angrily:
“No! My mother sewed these for me! If you pull them, I’ll fight you!”
“Wait.”
Old Huang immediately presented the ribbons with both hands. “Your Highness, they’re here! This old servant hasn’t thrown them away!”
Li Daoxuan glanced at him. “Who asked you?”
With that, he snatched the ribbons back into his hand. “Get out.”
“Yes.” Old Huang retreated cautiously.
Li Daoxuan stared at the silk ribbons for a long time, then slowly muttered, “Spoiled. Troublesome.” If he threw these away, then the next time she came asking for them and couldn’t get them back, she’d probably cry again.________________________________________He hated it most when people cried and fussed in front of him.
So Li Daoxuan casually pulled open a box, tossed the ribbons inside, and promptly forgot about them, turning his full attention to the strange, ominous prayer banner instead.
When officials of the third rank or above, or their family members, drowned, the Court of Judicial Review would generally conduct a routine investigation. If nothing unusual was found, the case would be closed directly.
Such case files were usually archived in the Court’s records repository.
Li Daoxuan lowered his gaze, a contemplative look flickering in his eyes.
Perhaps few people had noticed it, but recently, within Chang’an City, demonic and unclean entities had been steadily increasing, and growing ever more formidable.
That clump of black smoke was as sly as its master. The moment Liu Jiyue drew his sword, it flipped over the back wall and fled without hesitation.
Liu Jiyue was just about to give chase when the young boy cried out in pain, slipped, and fell to the ground. He hesitated, then stopped and gently helped the child up. “Did that thing hurt you?”
The boy’s eyes brimmed with tears as he nervously twisted the corner of his sleeve, sobbing softly. “N-no…”
Only then did Liu Jiyue breathe a sigh of relief. In a gentle voice, he said, “This place is dangerous. Don’t go out today, go home.”
“Th-thank you, sir,” the boy wiped away his tears and said gratefully. “I’ll go back right away!”
Only after watching the child run out of the alley and disappear into his home did Liu Jiyue lift his blade and pursue the direction in which the black smoke had vanished.
By the time the carriage reached the Liu residence, the gates were already wide open, as though they had been waiting for a long while.
Madam Liu stood anxiously at the entrance, straining her eyes. When she saw a carriage bearing the Shen family insignia approaching, she was instantly overjoyed and hurried forward.
The curtain was lifted, and stepping down was the Shen family young lady who had gone missing the day before.
Seeing her appear alive and well, Madam Liu froze for a moment. Then she recalled the stewardess’s report earlier: “The Shen family young lady has returned home at some point and said she would come to assist together with Envoy Liu.”
Understanding dawned on her.
“Thank you for coming all this way, Miss Shen,” Madam Liu said. “My husband and I are truly grateful beyond words. Please, come inside!”
Shen Qing had just returned Madam Liu’s courtesy when she was hurriedly interrupted. “No need for formalities, no need at all!” Madam Liu said. She waited a moment, then, not seeing a second person arrive, asked hesitantly, “Deputy Liu, he…”
Shen Qing smiled lightly and waved it off. “My senior brother encountered a demonic disturbance on the road and was delayed. It’s the same whether I come or he does.”
Seeing how frantic Madam Liu was, Shen Qing went straight to the point. “Please take me to see Miss Liu at once. How is her condition now?”
At the mention of her daughter, Madam Liu’s eyes filled with unconcealed anguish. They reddened at once as she said, “Wanxiu has been unconscious since yesterday. We summoned Young Lord Gu, but he said there was nothing he could do. I, I truly feel my heart has been torn apart.”
She grabbed Shen Qing’s sleeve tightly. “I beg you, Miss Shen, please save my daughter! Even if it costs me my life, I am willing!”
Fine lines lined the woman’s eyes, frost already dusted her temples. She looked far more worn by time than most women her age.
Shen Qing recalled Madam Liu’s equally weathered face and couldn’t help but feel puzzled. Liu Wanxiu was only sixteen, why did her parents look so aged?
Seeing Madam Liu cry uncontrollably, Shen Qing forced down her doubts and comforted her. “Please rest assured, Madam. I will do everything in my power to wake Miss Liu.”
Ordinarily, a soul could not remain separated from the body for long. If it lingered too long, even the underworld envoys would be unable to tell whether one was alive or dead. With a single tug of their chains, the soul would be dragged away, truly dead at that point.
Fortunately, not much time had passed, and Miss Liu had only lost one soul. There was still room to maneuver.
When they arrived at Liu Wanxiu’s boudoir and Shen Qing finally saw her face clearly, she immediately understood why she had felt a sense of familiarity.
She recalled the Quijiang Banquet, when a young lady had misunderstood Zhao Ranyan because of Shen Ling, then promptly sought her out to apologize once the truth was revealed. Such a straightforward temperament had left a strong impression.
Shen Qing set up the soul-summoning array, then took a strand of Madam Liu’s hair as a guide, winding it around Liu Wanxiu’s little finger. To the other end of the hair, she tied a red cord, the tail of which she held in her own hand.
After completing the setup, she asked Madam Liu for an object that Liu Wanxiu had cherished most in life.
Young Lord Gu had asked the same question when he came, so Madam Liu quickly brought the item over.
It was a lotus-shaped purple jade hairpin, said to be her coming-of-age gift from her mother.
Many lotus-themed decorations adorned Liu Wanxiu’s room. It was clear she truly loved lotus flowers. No wonder she hadn’t hesitated that day to touch the lotus on the ground, despite its strangeness.
Holding the lotus hairpin in her palm, Shen Qing began chanting the incantation. Gradually, white light flickered before her eyes, blurring into darkness. When she opened them again, she found herself in a void of black and white.
This world had no rules, no direction, no sense of time. Paths stretched out in all directions, yet none had an end. This was the so-called Chaos Realm.
In Shen Qing’s hand was a red thread, guided by the strand of hair. The other end led to the location of Liu Wanxiu’s lost soul.
Yet to outsiders, Shen Qing had merely closed her eyes and collapsed onto the couch, still clutching the hairpin and red thread tightly.
Madam Liu was startled at first, but remembering Shen Qing’s earlier warning, no matter what happens, do not touch me, she forced herself to suppress her panic and waited anxiously for Shen Qing to bring her daughter back.
Souls that had left the body were often muddled, drifting without clarity or awareness. Shen Qing needed to use something Liu Wanxiu loved most to awaken that faint remnant of will and lead her back.
She walked along the red thread through the void, for who knew how long, until a sudden flash of white light burst forth, and her vision opened wide.
She had arrived at a “Domain.”
A Domain was a soul-world. If a disembodied soul harbored an overwhelming obsession, that fixation would weave a memory world within the soul, trapping it in recollection, unable to escape.
At last, Shen Qing understood why Gu Yun had failed to summon Liu Wanxiu’s soul. The conditions required to form a Domain were exceedingly harsh, one might not appear in a hundred years. Records of such things were sparse, and Shen Qing herself had only learned of it after once being trapped in a Domain during an out-of-body experience.
Searching for a soul within a Domain was no different from looking for a needle in the sea.
The entire Domain was Liu Wanxiu, and Liu Wanxiu was this Domain.
Thus, the red cord lost its function the moment Shen Qing entered. It vanished at the threshold, recognizing that this Domain itself was Liu Wanxiu’s soul. If so, what need was there to “enter” at all?
Presumably, Gu Yun had wandered this Domain like a headless fly, unable to find Liu Wanxiu, and had no choice but to retreat.
Within the Domain, a pavilion rose before her. Above it hung a massive signboard bearing three characters: Yuanchun Pavilion, Chang’an’s largest pleasure house.
When Attendant Zhang had hosted a birthday banquet for his wife, it was a painted pleasure boat from Yuanchun Pavilion that he had reserved.
Now, the moon had just risen, and the city was under curfew. Outside the ward, the Golden Guards patrolled from time to time, the rhythmic clatter of armor echoing through the open night.
From afar, Yuanchun Pavilion appeared understated yet lavish. Its lights burned softly, not overly bright, with only the occasional peal of laughter spilling out, giving it an air of discreet elegance.
Yet once inside the half-closed doors, the splendor and decadence revealed themselves in full.
Foreign dancers swayed on the stage, their waists twisting like blossoms in spring. Their lively movements and sultry gazes drew every eye.
Musicians played flowing melodies in the hall, though their gazes kept drifting back to the dancers. Silk strings and bamboo flutes intertwined with the guests’ cheers. Amid this drunken dream, time itself seemed to stand still, all worries forgotten in this pocket of luxury.
Shen Qing’s doubts deepened. Liu Wanxiu had clearly been cherished by her parents. Even if her life was not extravagantly indulgent, it was at least secure and comfortable, she could obtain what she desired. Why, then, would she develop such an obsession? And why would it be tied to Yuanchun Pavilion?
With these questions in mind, Shen Qing stepped inside. Not far away, the madam noticed her and immediately plastered on a beaming smile, approaching to greet her. “Greetings, young master! Are you here to enjoy the music, or to visit one of our ladies?”
The madam’s facial features were blurred into a vague mass, but the enthusiasm in her voice and the broad, practiced gestures made it clear she was smiling brightly.
Looking around, Shen Qing saw that everyone else’s faces were similarly indistinct, as if viewed through a layer of fog.
She brushed past the madam and walked straight into the hall.
After being pushed aside, the madam simply moved on to the next “guest,” repeating the same question in a businesslike manner.
Here lay the drawback of a Domain: if the owner’s memories were unclear, the faces within would likewise be blurred.
But there was also an advantage, finding Liu Wanxiu would be much easier, because the one with a face would be her.
Shen Qing searched the hall without finding a familiar figure, then began checking each floor one by one. Door after door opened to reveal people without features. She searched every corner, yet Liu Wanxiu was nowhere to be found.
When she reached the final corner and still found nothing, doubt crept in. Was Liu Wanxiu truly here at all? Otherwise, how could she be nowhere within the tower?
Inside the tower!
Shen Qing suddenly realized that Yuanchun Pavilion had a rear courtyard. That was where servants and rough maids lived in low houses, and beyond the courtyard lay the Huachun Pool.
With that thought, she immediately headed there.
Sure enough, she found a wooden deck, likely where the maids and servants usually washed the courtesans’ garments.
Moored by the deck was a small covered boat, surrounded by horn lanterns that lit the courtyard brightly.
From a distance, she could see two figures sitting inside the boat, one large, one small.
The larger figure’s age was indiscernible. She wore red, her hair styled in fashionable double loops, slender hands graceful, her posture elegant.
The smaller one looked about five years old, dressed in a pale yellow ruqun, her hair tied into twin buns. She nestled comfortably in the red-clad woman’s arms.
The little girl lifted her head, her watery eyes able only to see the woman’s delicate chin and small nose. She asked, “Elder Sister, will a red carp really appear tonight?”
She pointed at the calm, rippleless water. “But it’s been so long… nothing’s shown up at all.”
The woman chuckled softly. “No hurry. It’ll appear soon.”
The girl scooped up another handful of coarse grain meal and sprinkled it over the lake’s surface. Yet after waiting a long while, nothing emerged. Growing upset, she puffed out her cheeks. “Elder Sister lied to me. There’s clearly nothing here.”
The woman tapped the girl’s pouting lips with her fingertip. Amused by her frank little expression, she covered her mouth and laughed quietly for a long time. Her trembling laughter made the small covered boat sway gently, sending ripples spreading across the water in widening circles.
After a while, she finally stopped, wagging a finger. “Red carp do exist, but their tastes have been spoiled. Ordinary fish feed won’t necessarily tempt them.”
The girl asked, “Then what do they like to eat?”
The woman fell silent. After a brief pause, she smiled slyly. “Watch carefully.”
With that, she pulled a silver hairpin from her bun. Before the girl could react, she dragged the blunt end across her wrist, tearing open a gash.
Drip, drip,
Blood fell in a thin, steady stream, splashing into the water like strings of rain.
The woman seemed to feel no pain at all. One hand stretched over the lake, letting the blood flow freely, while the other wrapped around the girl. She affectionately brushed her chin against the girl’s hair. “Look closely.”
Whether frightened or simply stunned, the girl stood frozen, unmoving.
As more blood spilled, a blush of red spread across the lake’s surface. When the crimson stain expanded, countless tiny bubbles began to boil up from the center. Then, a dazzlingly beautiful red carp leapt from the water, its entire body scarlet, mouth wide open as if to welcome nectar from the heavens.
Mid-leap, it was knocked aside by another red carp rising from behind. One after another, then group after group, innumerable red carp thrashed their tails and hurled themselves out of the water, competing desperately for a single mouthful of that delicious “sweet rain.”
Centered around the two of them, the small boat was almost encircled by these lovely creatures. Under candlelight and moonlight, their scales reflected shifting hues of light. The water shimmered as the red carp spun round and round.
The scene was like a single drop of vivid ink suddenly splashed onto a pristine white page, bewitchingly gorgeous.
The woman laughed in delight. “Hahaha! See? Their appetites have been spoiled. Now they only drink blood and eat flesh. Judging by this frenzy, they must’ve been starved for a long time, truly ravenous!”
The more excitedly she laughed, the louder the girl cried in her arms.
Irritated by the sobbing, the woman withdrew her hand and abruptly seized the girl’s shoulders, shouting, “Don’t you like it? Weren’t you the one who wanted to see red carp? I brought you here, and now you’re unhappy, what more do you want?!”
The girl cried endlessly, tears brimming in her eyes, pitiful beyond measure. Suddenly, she broke free from the woman’s grip and ran toward the cabin.
The woman let go without resistance, as though she’d expected the girl to flee. She merely watched quietly, her face blurred into an indistinct mass, her expression unreadable.
But the girl didn’t return to the deck. She rummaged inside the cabin for a moment, then came back out clutching several small items.
Kneeling at the edge of the boat, she clumsily tossed the objects into the water. The splashes startled the fish away. One by one, as everything in her arms was thrown down, the red carp, unable to find blood, were driven off by the falling objects, and the lake returned to its former stillness.
Only then did the girl grab the woman’s hand, sobbing. “I don’t want them! I don’t want them! They drink Elder Sister’s blood, they’re bad!” She burst into tears again.
The woman remained silent for a long time. At last, she raised her hand to wipe away the girl’s tears and asked, “Wasn’t this what you wanted to see? You talked about it for so long.”
“I don’t like it anymore!” the girl cried. “I don’t want them! I don’t want Elder Sister to hurt! I want Elder Sister to be well, I don’t want them!” Her words were clumsy and poorly strung together, but she tried with all her might to express her feelings.
The woman suddenly looked as though she were laughing and crying at once, bordering on madness. She shoved the girl away and bent over laughing uncontrollably. The girl, though pushed aside, didn’t get angry. She pulled out her little handkerchief, crawled back to the woman, and gently wiped away the tears she’d laughed out.
“Elder Sister, don’t cry.”