Zhu Yuanmo was not only speechless—he didn’t even believe his own words.

When people died, their physical bodies became corpses, put into coffins, buried in the earth. Their souls were led away by the Black and White Impermanence into the Six Paths of Reincarnation to be reborn.

Moreover, the paths of human and ghost were separate.

Even if a soul forcibly remained in the mortal world, it couldn’t become entangled with the living. What on earth was going on here?

Just as he was thinking this, Imperial Physician Pei suddenly sat down heavily on the ground.

“Father, what’s wrong?”

“Uncle Pei, where do you feel unwell?”

Imperial Physician Pei didn’t look at his own son but raised his head to look at Xie Zhifei.

“Chengyu, do you remember that time you invited me to dine at Spring Breeze Tower? That time I felt Miss Yan’s pulse seemed wrong.”

Imperial Physician Pei’s voice was almost pressed into his throat. “I could feel a pulse beating, beating quite normally, but I couldn’t diagnose what kind of pulse it was.”

Xie Zhifei laughed coldly: “That’s because… you’re just a quack.”

Being called a quack, Pei Yu showed no anger—his expression just grew increasingly ugly.

“I also said this young lady’s body temperature wasn’t normal either. Compared to us normal people, it was somewhat lower, ice-cold.”

“Uncle Pei, there are people in this world who aren’t afraid of cold. You can’t say all those people are dead, can you?”

“This…”

Pei Yu was also left speechless.

“Third Master.”

Zhu Yuanmo’s tone was meek. “Do you remember when you all went to Mount Wutai to find Geng Songsheng? Everyone was freezing to death, but my second brother said Miss Yan was still wearing only a single layer.”

“So what?”

Xie Zhifei said angrily: “If I grit my teeth, I can also wear a single layer in winter.”

Hey, why are you being so contrary with me!

Zhu Yuanmo, provoked by this string of rebuttals, shot back: “Only dead people have low temperatures, only dead people aren’t afraid of cold, only dead people have no breath. Do you understand?”

“I don’t understand.”

Xie Zhifei’s gaze was dark. “I only know one thing—her pulse is beating. Find me a dead person whose pulse beats!”

“You…” Zhu Yuanmo’s face turned red with anger, his neck thick. He wanted to curse.

“Brother Zhu!”

Young Master Pei somehow suddenly calmed down.

“Why do you say she’s already been dead? Does your Zhu family have some special… ability?”

“Young Master Pei, what is our profession?”

“Feng shui and fortune-telling.”

“I ask you—what is fate?”

“Fate is just fate!”

“Fate is the past and also the future.”

Zhu Yuanmo: “Young Master Pei, do you remember you once asked me how the Pei family’s feng shui was?”

“I remember. You said a kind heart is the best feng shui.”

“Actually, that’s only one part of it.”

Zhu Yuanmo: “I don’t need to see Young Master Pei’s birth characters to get a general sense of your fate. Do you know why?”

Pei Xiao: “Why?”

“Sensing.”

Zhu Yuanmo: “Each of us carries a fortune on our person. You, Young Master Pei, have your fortune. Third Master has his fortune. Miss Li has her fortune.

Each of your fortunes—I can sense them all. Based on these fortunes, I can roughly judge your past and future.”

Pei Xiao frowned: “Is it really that mystical?”

“Young Master Pei, without this little bit of mystical ability, the Zhu family wouldn’t have held their position at the Imperial Observatory for so long.”

Zhu Yuanmo: “But from the first moment I saw Miss Yan, I couldn’t sense anything from her.

I couldn’t sense her past, I couldn’t sense her future. The only thing I could feel was cold.”

Pei Xiao understood.

Zhu Yuanmo couldn’t detect fortune or misfortune on Yan Sanhe, couldn’t divine her hexagrams, couldn’t sense her past or future. Based on these three points, he judged she had already died long ago.

“But why can she…”

“Young Master Pei, this is precisely what I can’t figure out. There’s no elixir or miraculous medicine in this world that can turn a dead person into a living one.”

Zhu Yuanmo glanced at Yan Sanhe on the bed and murmured lowly: “There must be something I don’t know about. There must be, definitely!”

As he spoke, he suddenly raised his head to look at Xie Zhifei.

“Third Brother, Miss Yan has shown life-saving kindness to my Zhu family. Like you, I hope she’ll be free from illness and disaster, able to live to a hundred!”

The impregnable fortress in Xie Zhifei’s heart suddenly collapsed.

He staggered back two steps and sat down on the edge of the bed, staring blankly at the young woman on the bed, saying nothing.

Suddenly, he seemed to think of something. His gaze shifted toward the window ledge.

By the window ledge was only an incense burner with a bit of ash piled inside.

The incense had burned out!

…

West City Gate.

A carriage sped through the entrance. The driver was a bald monk—this monk was very tall, sporting a full beard, his eyes carrying a sharp edge.

A head poked out from the carriage curtain, the features on that head scrunched together in misery.

“Good disciple, slow down, slow down. This old monk’s bones are being jolted to pieces.”

“Don’t start. If you hadn’t been stopping to shit, stopping to piss, shouting you’re hungry, shouting you’re thirsty, wasting all that time, we should have entered the city last night.”

“When you’re old, you can’t hold your bowels or bladder. When hungry you need to eat, when thirsty you need to drink. Can you blame me? When I was your age…”

“Don’t bring up ancient history. Tell me—the capital is so huge, where do we find people?”

“The Xie family, of course. While we’re at it, let you see your former flame. Honestly, that flame of yours is quite handsome.”

“Old! Monk!”

“See, see! Mention your flame and you get angry. You still haven’t cultivated properly. Good disciple, form is emptiness, emptiness is form. Aiya, stop the carriage quickly!”

With a “whoa—” the carriage stopped steadily.

The old monk climbed down from the carriage.

“Master, where are you going?”

“Asking for directions.”

“Let me go!”

The old monk scoffed with a “heh.” “You’re too handsome—easily seduced away by young ladies and wives.”

Bearded monk: “…”

“Amitabha. Benefactor, how does one get to the Military Tribunal?”

“…”

“Amitabha. Benefactor, how does one get to the Military Tribunal?”

“…”

“Amitabha. Benefactor, how does one get to the Military Tribunal?”

“…”

He asked three people in succession—all three avoided him like the plague.

The old monk instantly became angry, thinking to himself: you vulgar commoners, every one of you looking down on people with dog eyes. Can’t you smell the immortal aura on me that only produces one great monk every three hundred years?

He simply walked up to a pretty young wife and slapped his ghostly claw on that young wife’s bottom.

“Molester! A monk is molesting people… Someone come, quickly come, help!”

“At your age still harassing women, you dead bald donkey.”

“Looking so lecherous—must be a fake monk!”

“Definitely a fake monk. Send him to the authorities, send him!”

“Look quickly, there’s a patrolling official over there!”

“Official sir, official sir, come quickly! There’s a fake monk here…”

In the shoving, the fake monk squeezed his eyes at his beloved disciple on the carriage and clasped his hands together, shouting loudly: “Amitabha! If I don’t enter hell, who will?”

His beloved disciple covered his forehead with his hand and silently cursed:

“Disgraceful!”

—