"I’m crying for Madam. Such a fine poetry gathering, so many cultured scholars, such a beautiful garden,"
Xiuhe said with tears streaming down:
"Yet that person didn’t co. No one knows where they are. I even planned to recite *Peony Pavilion* for all of you."
Lin Wanxiao’s cheeks flushed upon hearing this. She couldn’t help but think, even if it’s for revenge, does she really need to be a faithless woman sneaking out for soone? What face could she possibly have now? She felt ashad beyond asure, her eyes full of unspeakable sorrow.
Then she laughed at herself. All dressed up like this, that person still didn’t co — how utterly absurd.
She stroked the sachet hanging by her waist and gazed absentmindedly into the distance. Her profile in the night was dazzlingly beautiful.
Xiuhe saw her and began crying even harder:
"A woman adorns herself for the one who pleases her, Madam, but now — who are you longing for?"
..................
Inside the Prince Mansion.
Chen Yi did not rush to the back mountain but instead took his ti to tour various corners of the Prince Mansion.
Whether it was drunken scholars and honored guests, servants and maids counting their rewards, the curling smoke wafting from the kitchen, or the slightly risqué ambiance of the concubine’s courtyard — Chen Yi saw it all.
As for what he discovered? Besides one of the Prince’s concubines using her Jade Ruyi to stave off loneliness, there wasn’t anything remarkable.
Everything seed normal.
Normal to the point of abnormality.
This overly normal situation offered no way to explain Yin Weiyin’s origins.
Thus, this ti, Chen Yi decided to visit the back mountain — together with Yin Weiyin.
But before that, he first sent Yin Tingxue ho. The little fox ca to the poetry gathering today, and though it was unclear how much fun she had, she arrived happily and left just as joyfully. Why? Because her poem had won so recognition.
The poetry gathering had three thes: Celebrating birthdays, recalling history with ancient verses, and composing Buddhist five-line quatrains. Yin Tingxue had written a Buddhist verse, where the upper stanza was unremarkable but the lower stanza showed distinctive charm. It read:
"Blossoms bloom unnoticed, / Fall, leaving no trace."
Though the wording was simple, it contained profound Zen principles. Thus, her poem was awarded a prize at the gathering. To call it a prize, though, would be generous — it wasn’t a grand reward and certainly didn’t win first place. In the end, the recognition was more like a consolation prize for those who didn’t make the top three. Nevertheless, for the little fox, that was enough to make her happy for a while.
As for the thirty taels of silver prize money? Chen Yi took it upon himself to temporarily hold onto it.
When she learned of this, Yin Tingxue pouted and cast an aggrieved glance his way. But she said nothing in the end — though her eyes kept hinting at reluctance as she repeatedly looked back while entering her house.
Chen Yi ignored her.
Tossing the money pouch into the air, watching the silver fly and fall, Chen Yi thought to himself, thirty taels of silver was really nothing. These days his annual salary as a mber of the Zhi Ge Division amounted to five hundred taels, not to ntion the savings he’d amassed during his previous tenure as a West Factory Thousand Households officer.
"Now that I think of it, should I start giving her so allowance?"
Chen Yi mused.
Previously, fearing that she might escape and considering that the household had never skimped on her food, clothing, and daily necessities, he hadn’t given her any monthly salary. She herself didn’t ask for it either. But now, seeing how obedient and well-behaved the little fox was, giving her even a small allowance could be a good thing — even if she didn’t spend it.
Perhaps watching those monthly coins pile up into a small mountain could bring her secret laughter of delight.
Dreaming up possibilities aside, there were more pressing matters at hand. Chen Yi took a deep breath and returned to the Prince Mansion.
Soon, he arrived at Yin Weiyin’s courtyard.
"What’s the matter?"
Yin Weiyin pushed open the door. As a cultivator pursuing the essence of the sun and moon, she had been ditating and had not yet changed out of her robes.
Chen Yi spoke up: "I heard from your father the Prince that the back mountain seems to have so anomalies. Since that’s the case, I’ll accompany you for a visit — treat it as helping my father-in-law solve a problem."
Yin Weiyin cast Chen Yi a suspicious glance, unsure of his motives, but still took up her Peach Wood Sword and followed him.
Heading up the back mountain, thick layers of snow lay in their path. That recent snowfall had co in a hurry and lted away just as quickly, leaving the scenery shimring in silvery light.
Following the trail forward, Chen Yi kept his eyes sharp. The shadowy trees lood large, forming a desolate, ghostly aura with the solitude of the place.
None of the Taoists or monks present earlier — nor even the Yu Zhen Yuanjun — had been able to uncover the mountain’s anomalies, and for over a decade, the Prince Mansion had experienced steady and prosperous days.
"There’s nothing here, is there?" Yin Weiyin murmured softly as she held her Peach Wood Sword.
She couldn’t understand why Chen Yi insisted on coming here, nor did she want to be here herself. Were it not for Chen Yi’s request, she would have stayed far away.
Fear — naless and shadowy — prevented her from refusing his demands.
"I hope for nothing here as well."
Chen Yi spoke while moving forward, tapping the ground with his Brocade Spring Blade.
Gradually, the navigable path reached its end. To go deeper, they had to tread beyond tangled treetops, crushing fallen branches and leaves underfoot.
As they ventured further, the back mountain seed to grow eerily still and steeped in gloom.
After an indeterminate period, the tip of Chen Yi’s blade halted.
The soil was loose.
Seeing him stop, Yin Weiyin tightened her grip nervously in the still, eerie atmosphere and asked:
"What did you find?"
"There’s sothing buried here..."
Using the blade tip to tap downward, Chen Yi instilled True Qi into the earth, and faint echoes surfaced.
Sothing lay underneath.
Unsheathing his sword, Chen Yi raised it without hesitation, holding his breath as he slashed down hard.
Under the force of wind-breaking rain-splitting energy, the soil burst forth, splitting apart deep into the earth. Yin Weiyin leaned forward to peer inside — and saw a wooden coffin carved with four-clawed golden pythons erging from the exposed ground.
"How could there be..."
Yin Weiyin gasped in astonishnt. Never had she anticipated finding such a coffin here.
The material was exquisite, made of millennium-rot-resistant golden-threaded nanmu wood, a treasure typically enshrined in imperial tombs or grand burial chambers — now mysteriously buried shallow beneath the earth.
Chen Yi fixed his gaze on the coffin, kicked aside loose soil, and touched the crimson gold Shariputra in his breast pocket. He then placed his hand on the coffin lid.
Buzz.
As the coffin lid slid open, a piercing, chilling shriek erupted, accompanied by streams of sinister black aura carrying the anguished cries of lantation.
Yet under the Buddha Light radiating from the crimson gold Shariputra, the encroaching black aura receded inch by inch, dissipating entirely. With the blackness cleared away, Chen Yi laid eyes on the corpse within the coffin.
Chen Yi brushed aside the foul mist wafting near his face, preparing to examine the corpse closely.
But before he could, Yin Weiyin — who had glimpsed the remains first — blurted out in shock:
"That robe... it belongs to my Taihua Mountain sect!"
Chen Yi took note of her words and carefully examined the corpse. It was, indeed, a female corpse. Her features were too shrunken to be discernible, but the robes she wore were unmistakably aged duplicates of Yin Weiyin’s own attire.
Moreover, her physique... closely resembled Yin Weiyin’s!
Chen Yi’s gaze froze.
He turned back to Yin Weiyin, whose face was marked by confusion and disbelief.
The female crown faltered and muttered:
"Why is a Taihua Mountain... Taichua Goddess... buried here?"
Chen Yi was about to speak.
But as he turned his head, within the ominous shadows of the pitch-black trees, he caught sight of the figure of the Prince’s eldest son.
The boy was standing beneath the shadows of the trees,
a child no older than ten,
his eyes shining with a haunting, crimson light.
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