It turned out that these noble ladies had accompanied Ashina Jia to Ximing Temple to worship Buddha. Ashina Jia had come to the plum garden to find Cui Xun, deliberately sending all of them away, but she had not returned for a long time. They were all anxious—the Emperor greatly favored this Turkic princess, and if anything happened to her, their husbands’ careers would likely be ruined.
Wang Ranxi was shrewd and capable. She directed the other ladies: “This plum garden isn’t large. Let’s split up to search. We’ll surely find Consort Hui.”
Everyone nodded and separated with their servants to look for Ashina Jia. Wang Ranxi hurried along with her maid, searching diligently. Suddenly, her maid seemed to hear a sound and turned her head to look in that direction, but saw nothing. When she turned back, Wang Ranxi had disappeared.
Wang Ranxi had also heard a sound, but from a different direction than her maid. Thinking it might be Ashina Jia, she quickly walked toward the source of the sound. She entered a grove of plum trees surrounded by red, white, and green plum blossoms flowering like a sea, but there was no sign of Ashina Jia.
Wang Ranxi was sweating profusely. As the legitimate daughter of the Wang family from Taiyuan, one of the most prestigious aristocratic families in the land, she had been proud and competitive since childhood, always striving to outdo others. Although affected by the Taichang Blood Incident, she had married a minor official from a humble family. After marriage, she had actively schemed, and now her husband was a third-rank official, while she had been granted the title of Lady of Jincheng Commandery. By all accounts, her life should have been fulfilling, but Wang Ranxi still had one concern: her only son had repeatedly failed the imperial examinations and spent his days drinking and visiting courtesans, causing her to lose face among the noble ladies of Chang’an. Her husband, Pei Guanyue, also disliked this son and was unwilling to secure an official position for him. Left with no choice, Wang Ranxi had decided to curry favor with Consort Hui, hoping she would put in a good word with the Emperor to get her son a position in the Imperial Guard. Being in the Imperial Guard would make future promotions easier than in other official positions.
That was why Wang Ranxi had accompanied Consort Hui to worship Buddha early on the morning of the Lantern Festival. But unexpectedly, Consort Hui had disappeared.
Wang Ranxi suddenly heard another sound from behind a plum tree. Overjoyed, she thought Consort Hui might be there. She quickly stepped around the tree, but instead of finding Consort Hui, she saw an eternal lamp on the ground.
Wang Ranxi picked up the lamp in confusion and read the inscription on its base: “Princess Yong’an~Li Ying.”
This was Princess Yong’an’s eternal lamp.
Wang Ranxi reacted as if she had touched a venomous snake, frightened into throwing the lamp aside and falling to the ground. Cold sweat poured down her forehead as she frantically called her maid: “Chuntao, Chuntao!”
The maid hurried over to help her up: “What’s wrong, Madam?”
“Who threw this eternal lamp here?” Wang Ranxi pointed at the lamp and asked harshly.
The maid looked at the ground in confusion: “Madam, there’s nothing there.”
Wang Ranxi was stunned. She looked at the eternal lamp on the ground: “You say there’s nothing?”
The maid nodded: “Nothing at all.”
Wang Ranxi’s lips began to tremble: “Ghost! There’s a ghost!”
She was so frightened that she clung to her maid’s arm, whom she normally disdained for her lowly status: “Let’s go home! Home quickly!”
“Madam, aren’t we still looking for Consort Hui?”
“No more searching! No more! Let’s go home!”
Supported by her maid, Wang Ranxi fled from the plum garden like she was escaping.
Behind the plum tree, Li Ying slowly emerged.
Her palm emitted a faint glow, and the eternal lamp on the ground gradually disappeared.
Wang Ranxi’s reaction further confirmed Li Ying’s suspicion that her death was connected to Wang Ranxi. Otherwise, Wang Ranxi would not have been so frightened.
She gazed at Wang Ranxi’s retreating figure. She couldn’t appear before people, and she should find Cui Xun now to have him question Wang Ranxi. But given Cui Xun’s current state, she couldn’t bring herself to seek him out.
Li Ying pressed her lips together and quickly followed Wang Ranxi.
Wang Ranxi swiftly exited Ximing Temple. Even as she sat in her carriage, she was still shaken.
She clutched a small rosewood prayer bead necklace in her fingers, her face ashen as she closed her eyes and repeatedly murmured the six-syllable mantra “Om Mani Padme Hum.” Suddenly, she heard another sound. She opened her eyes and found that an eternal lamp had appeared in her carriage.
She immediately recognized it as the same lamp that had been dedicated to Li Ying earlier.
Wang Ranxi screamed in terror. She threw her prayer beads at the eternal lamp, hoping their power would drive away this evil spirit, but the beads passed right through the lamp and fell onto the carriage floor.
Wang Ranxi froze. She screamed: “Chuntao, Chuntao!”
But this time, Chuntao, who was just outside the carriage, seemed unable to hear her, and even the driver continued driving the carriage without reacting.
Wang Ranxi called out desperately: “Dunak! Dunak!”
But the driver continued calmly driving the carriage. Wang Ranxi suddenly heard a clear, girlish voice: “It’s useless. They can’t hear you.”
Green ghostly flames ignited in the carriage, and before Wang Ranxi’s eyes, a delicate young woman gradually appeared. She wore a snow-white fox fur coat and had her hair styled in a double-looped bun. Her lips were as red as the morning glow, her teeth white, and her eyebrows fine; her face was as beautiful as a painting. Wang Ranxi’s teeth began to chatter: “Ghost! Ghost!”
Li Ying looked at Wang Ranxi quietly: “Why are you so afraid of me?”
Wang Ranxi merely huddled in a corner of the carriage, shouting hoarsely: “Ghost! There’s a ghost!”
“It seems you recognize me,” Li Ying said. “Should I call you Lady of Jincheng Commandery, or should I call you Cousin Zheng Yun?”
“Zheng Yun…” This long-unheard name suddenly jolted Wang Ranxi: “Yes, it was Zheng Yun who killed you! Don’t come after me! Don’t come after me!”
“Was it Zheng Yun? Did you have nothing to do with it?”
“No! No!” Wang Ranxi couldn’t even bear to look at Li Ying. Her hair was disheveled, and she waved her hands wildly, having lost all the dignity of a noblewoman: “I didn’t kill you!”
“If you didn’t kill me, why can’t you look at me?”
Wang Ranxi dared not answer, only crouching in a corner, desperately shouting: “I didn’t! I didn’t!”
The green ghostly flames in the carriage gradually dimmed, and Li Ying felt a sweet, bloody taste in her throat. Her spiritual power came entirely from the eternal lamps her mother had dedicated to Buddha for her. The divine power of these Buddhist rites allowed her to remain in the mortal world, to walk in daylight, and to perform small tricks like creating the illusion of an eternal lamp. But this did not mean she could use this power to forcibly manifest herself, create illusions, or frighten mortals and cause harm in the human world.
If she continued to force her spiritual power to trap Wang Ranxi, she would suffer the backlash of Buddhist law.
Li Ying felt as if her internal organs were burning with pain. Her brows furrowed tightly, and her vision darkened. If she didn’t extract a confession from Wang Ranxi soon, it would be too late.
She glared at Wang Ranxi: “Since you keep insisting you didn’t kill me, do you dare to swear? Do you dare to swear that if you had even the slightest connection to this matter, you would fall into the Avici Hell, be reborn again and again, and never escape the cycle of rebirth?”
Wang Ranxi dared not swear. She suddenly knelt, desperately kowtowing: “Princess, please spare me. Thirty years ago, I was momentarily confused, which is why I… which is why I…”
“Which is why what?”
Wang Ranxi suddenly stopped speaking and only kept kowtowing desperately: “Spare me, please spare me. I will offer eternal lamps before Buddha for the Princess. I will also pray day and night for the Princess. Please, spare me…”
The bloody taste in Li Ying’s throat intensified, and the green ghostly flames in the carriage finally extinguished completely. Wang Ranxi, sensing the silence, fearfully raised her head, only to find that the carriage was now empty.
The day of the Lantern Festival had been clear and pleasant with mild sunshine, but by evening, heavy snowflakes began to fall. A clerk from the Ministry of Justice hurriedly came to Cui Xun’s residence.
The mute servant was sweeping snow. The clerk asked: “May I ask, where is the Young Lord?”
The mute servant pointed to the closed door. The clerk understood: “Could you announce me? I have urgent matters to discuss with the Young Lord.”
The mute servant shook his head. The clerk had no choice but to quickly walk up and knock on the tightly closed door, but there was still silence from within. Not daring to enter forcibly, the clerk called loudly from outside: “Young Lord, it’s Liu Jiu. You asked me to watch the Pei residence, and something strange happened there today.”
The room remained silent, and it was unclear whether Cui Xun had heard or not. The clerk continued reluctantly: “Lady of Jincheng Commandery went to Ximing Temple to worship Buddha this morning, but on her way back, she encountered a ghost. Meeting a ghost in broad daylight frightened her into incoherent raving, and now she lies ill in bed.”
After speaking, the clerk paused and listened, but still heard no response. Disappointed, he bowed and slowly retreated.
After the clerk left, the mute servant continued sweeping snow in the courtyard. In the pitch-black study, a white Xing kiln porcelain lamp was slowly lit.
In the dim red flame of the lampwick, a face as pale as jade appeared.
Cui Xun was not wearing the deep crimson official robes that a fourth-rank official should wear according to protocol, but only a plain white cross-collared robe. His white garments were like snow, his black hair like ink, giving him an otherworldly appearance.
But beneath this divine countenance, through the collar of his plain white robe, one could faintly glimpse numerous scars on his skin.
Cui Xun slowly closed his eyes, and his body began to tremble slightly. The endless tortures, the extremely humiliating abuses in the Yinshan Mountains had shattered all the pride and dignity of this son of the Boling Cui clan.
As the lamp oil was about to burn out, Cui Xun finally opened his eyes again. He rose and opened the wooden door. Outside, snow was falling heavily, turning everything into a vast expanse of white. The mute servant who had been sweeping straightened up and stared blankly at Cui Xun in his plain white attire.
Cui Xun finally spoke, saying calmly: “No need to sweep.”
“When snow falls, everything becomes cleaner.”
The curfew had been imposed in Chang’an. The Imperial Guards formed a line, carrying torches, patrolling the various neighborhoods. Someone grumbled: “This cursed weather, bright sunshine during the day, and such heavy snow at night.”
Another said: “With such heavy snow, surely no reckless scholar would violate the curfew to go out and enjoy the snow.”
No sooner had the words been spoken than they saw a young man in a plain white cross-collared robe, his ink-black hair merely pinned up with an ebony hairpin, cascading over his shoulders, carrying a red bamboo lantern, walking slowly toward them against the wind and snow.
As the young man with the lantern approached, they saw that snowflakes had settled on his white clothes and black hair. A snowflake twirled in the wind and landed on his crow-black eyelashes, turning to frost. The guards exchanged glances, wondering if this might be the ghost of some famous figure from the Wei-Jin period, unable to resist returning to the mortal world for the beauty of Chang’an’s night snow. However, one Imperial Guard who didn’t believe in ghosts shouted: “Who goes there! Stop!”
The young man didn’t halt but continued walking through the snow with his lantern. The guard grew angry and was about to approach when a companion pulled him back. The companion pointed at the purple-gold fish pouch at the young man’s waist and shook his head.
The purple-gold fish pouch was an item that only third-rank and higher officials of the Great Zhou could wear. With this pouch, one could move about during curfew hours and enter the palace gates. Currently, there were only around twenty officials of the third rank or higher in Chang’an, and none of them was as young as this man.
However, the purple-gold fish pouch could also be bestowed by the Empress Dowager or the Emperor on officials below the third rank as a sign of favor. Looking at the lotus-like beauty of the young man, a name unanimously came to everyone’s mind.
The Lotus Gentleman, Cui Xun.
Carrying his lantern, Cui Xun continued his search and finally found a young woman lying unconscious outside Danfeng Gate. Her face was pale, her eyes tightly closed, her breath as thin as silk, with a trace of bright red blood at the corner of her lips.
Cui Xun dropped his lantern and bent down to pick up the young woman. In his arms, she was as light as a feather, her body cold without any warmth.
Cui Xun held the young woman in his arms. Before him was Danfeng Gate, and behind it, Daming Palace, Penglai Hall, and her mother.
Cui Xun looked at the tightly closed Danfeng Gate. He pressed his lips together, pulled the fox fur coat around Li Ying more tightly, then carried her away from Danfeng Gate.
In the wind and snow, the young man in the plain white cross-collared robe carried the unconscious young woman. Snowflakes fell abundantly, gradually covering the young man’s footsteps.
Leaving no trace behind.