Volume 1, Chapter 8: Why Aren't You Crying?

Ming Shu vomited blood again, her whole body shaking violently. The black energy sought to erupt from within her, but her frail, weakened physical vessel could no longer contain it.

"Move aside, let me help her!" Fu Zhixun took Ming Shu from Muxi’s arms, gripped her hands tightly, and channeled his profound internal energy into her body to help suppress the encroaching darkness.

"Yun Xia, tell me everything you know about Yun Qing! Every last detail!"

Yun Xia, already stunned into a stupor, trembled at the sight of Fu Zhixun’s chilling, terrifying gaze. She stammered, but only repeated what she had already said.

Fu Tian returned carrying a pile of mirrors. Fu Zhixun asked Ming Shu, "How should they be arranged?"

"Arrange them according to the Kan trigram..."

Fu Zhixun reached out with a long arm and positioned the mirrors. Ming Shu’s peripheral vision caught the edge of a bronze mirror, where a ring of blooming peonies was carved. A sudden spark ignited in her mind, and she interrupted Yun Xia, "What flower was Yun Qing wearing in her hair?"

Yun Xia froze, stunned on the spot.

"Speak!" Fu Zhixun barked.

Yun Xia shuddered. "Peonies... Sister Yun Qing loved peonies the most."

Ming Shu signaled toward Nanny Tang with her eyes. A moment later, at Fu Zhixun’s gesture, Fu Tian dragged the woman over.

"When your nephew defiled Yun Qing, did he crush the peony in her hair?"

Nanny Tang, also terrified by the black mist, was unable to respond.

"Beat her," Fu Zhixun said succinctly.

After two slaps from Fu Tian, Nanny Tang let out a pig-like shriek. "I don't know, I don't know anything anymore... When she came back, her hair was disheveled, her clothes were torn, she looked like a ghost..."

Ming Shu had her answer.

"Yun Qing wore that flower not just for vanity, but because she held a yearning—a hope for the future."

"The peony might have been planted in her childhood home, plucked by her mother to adorn her hair, or perhaps it was a token of a promise to her lover..."

"Nanny Tang’s nephew destroyed her innocence, but he also destroyed her peony—her entire hope."

"Compared to death, the destruction of one's hope is far more infuriating and despairing."

"Yun Qing’s greatest obsession is that peony."

Ming Shu smiled bitterly. "But it is late autumn now; where would one find a peony?"

In truth, there was a way. The book had mentioned that the Crown Prince’s Eastern Palace possessed a garden where it was warm as spring all year round, with flowers in constant bloom. But...

"Fu Tian, have Fu Xuan send over a pot of peonies!"

Ming Shu’s eyes widened in shock as she stared at Fu Zhixun. He had planted an informant in the Eastern Palace? Even the original Princess Fanyin, who had lived in the Eastern Palace for ten years, had never discovered the Chancellor’s reach!

Fu Zhixun stared back at her, his gaze growing cold. Ming Shu quickly averted her eyes, realizing her reaction had been too intense; he was suspicious. Daring not to reveal any further emotion, she closed her eyes. Once her vision was gone, the sensations within her body were amplified. Fu Zhixun’s internal energy could not suppress the vengeful spirit of Yun Qing. The spirit rampaged inside her, causing every inch of her bones to ache with agony. She should have listened to her master—survival was paramount, and she should have left the vengeful spirit to the heavens...

The cold sweat on her body was dried repeatedly by the freezing wind. Ming Shu felt as though she were dying and coming back to life. If she weren't being held by Fu Zhixun, she would have wanted to smash everything in a fit of rage to vent the pain.

"Why don't you cry?" Fu Zhixun asked suddenly.

"Why should I cry..." Ming Shu’s voice was as thin as a thread.

"You are in pain."

"Crying is useless..."

Ever since she first reached the underworld and ascended to the realm of a metaphysical master, the emotions that clouded her judgment had grown faint. This included weak tears and the mind-numbing nature of romantic love.

Fu Zhixun was silent for a moment before ordering the Old Madam’s maid to summon Uncle Zhao. Soon, Uncle Zhao arrived with a medical chest.

"Apply the needles. Don't let her die of pain."

Uncle Zhao took out silver needles, sterilized them over a flame, and said, "Third Young Mistress, forgive me." He lifted her limp left hand, pulled back her sleeve, and drove the needles into her pressure points.

After a few needles, the pain subsided significantly, and the look Ming Shu gave Uncle Zhao brightened. A miracle doctor!

"You cannot afford Uncle Zhao’s consultation fee," Fu Zhixun’s voice came coolly.

Ming Shu: "..."

Who was he looking down on? Did he know how much she used to charge for a single fortune-telling? One million at the very least.

After finishing the acupuncture, Uncle Zhao stole a glance at Fu Zhixun. The young master was being a bit talkative today.

Fu Tian finally returned, carrying a pot of blooming peonies.

Ming Shu sat upright. "Uncle Zhao, lend me the blade from your medical kit."

The blood on her left palm had already coagulated, so she sliced open her right palm instead. With her bleeding hand, she grasped the stem of the peony, emptied her mind, and let her soul return to her spiritual core.

"Let me out! I will kill you!" The black energy surged more violently than ever.

"Yun Qing, I have found the peony you lost."

Ming Shu’s soul opened her hand, and a pink peony appeared in her palm. In an instant, the black energy grew still.

Ming Shu held the flower out. A gust of wind swept by, and the peony floated into the black mist. Immediately, the black energy peeled away layer by layer, like clouds parting to reveal the moon, and a faint shadow appeared before Ming Shu’s soul.

Ming Shu’s soul smiled at her and touched her gently with transparent fingers.

A quarter of an hour later, Ming Shu opened her eyes. Wisps of black energy seeped from her bleeding right palm, and using her sect’s secret techniques, she sealed the resentment-turned-mist into the bronze mirrors on the ground. Finally, a transparent figure, visible only to her, drifted into the peony flower.

Ming Shu said to Fu Zhixun, "I need your help for what comes next."

"Wrap these mirrors in black cloth and bury them in the soil by the well. I have sealed the resentment; as long as the mirrors remain unbroken, it will not emerge. Once I recover my strength, I will cleanse them completely."

"Find everyone who ever harmed Yun Qing. Even if they are dead, dig up their bones. A life must be paid for with a life; only then can I resolve Yun Qing’s karma and send her into reincarnation."

"How many days will you need for this?"

Fu Zhixun pondered briefly. "Two days."

Ming Shu nodded. "Then I will sleep for two days. Once everyone is found, have Muxi wake me."

Her gaze finally fell on Uncle Zhao, and she offered a weak smile. "Please help me bandage my wounds, and also... I am a little hungry."

Uncle Zhao glanced secretly at Fu Zhixun, who replied coldly with two words: "Do it."

*

Uncle Zhao carried the peony, and Muxi carried Ming Shu back to her quarters. On the way, they heard wailing. Not far off, a chubby boy was wedged in the branches of a tree, his short legs kicking. Above his head was a kite; below him, another chubby boy was bawling.

"Little Shu! You brat, how did you get yourself stuck in a tree?!"

"Mother, it’s my brother who is stuck, I’m right here..."

Ming Shu couldn't help but chuckle. What a pair of unlucky children.

Fu Zhixun couldn't help but look at her. Thin rays of sunlight filtered through the clouds, falling into his cold, clear eyes.

Uncle Zhao brought over a soup to restore her vitality and then quickly ducked into the kitchen to cook noodles. Muxi, fearing Ming Shu would go hungry, went to help. Ming Shu drank a few sips of the medicinal soup, but, unable to hold on any longer, she slumped onto the table and fell into a deep sleep.

In her dreams, it felt as though a pair of cold, searching eyes remained fixed upon her.