In this world, wherever living people gather, there are inevitably businesses that feed off the dead. Once a person breathes their last and passes on, the funeral industry’s business has only just begun, encompassing both legal and legitimate affairs as well as illegal dealings.

The secret formula for Da Le San was powder ground from naturally formed mummified corpses. Since Qiu Ren frequently visited burial grounds searching for medicinal materials, he had long established connections with the local Mangbei Hall in Luoyang, conducting various business dealings with them.

Young, nameless female corpses were rarely wasted by being left exposed in the wilderness. Arranging a ghost marriage could net the matchmaker at least ten-odd strings of cash, and Mangbei Hall made their living from exactly this business. They had complex networks around Luoyang, able to collect corpses promptly and act as intermediaries when suitable families were found.

Qiu Ren pointed to two middle-aged men and said, “These two are senior underworld matchmakers from Mangbei Hall. They know all the newly buried brides.”

The two men, one named Ruan San and the other Fang Jia, had been forcibly “invited” by Ghost Hand Vajra to help search for corpses. Their scalps tingling with fear, they hastily waved their hands with ingratiating smiles: “Don’t know them, don’t know them. We just act as go-betweens. Whether it’s suitable still depends on fate and destiny. We’re all somewhat in the same line of work, haha.”

The five members of Canyang Courtyard split into two groups. After the industry insiders pointed out burial locations, they began openly digging graves in broad daylight.

Speaking of tools that all of them could skillfully use, it was neither swords and axes nor hidden weapons and clubs, but iron shovels and pickaxes for digging soil. Qiu Ren spat on his hands and said to Wei Da and Sanniang, “Let’s dig together.”

But Wei Xun said, “I swore I wouldn’t do this anymore. You dig, I’ll wait to examine the corpses.”

Tuoba Sanniang’s face twitched slightly. Qiu Ren ground his teeth, wanting to make sarcastic remarks, but then thought better of it, not wanting to get too close to an unpredictable madman.

Now that the donkey-riding lady was most likely dead, Wei Xun was still avoiding responsibility, resisting opening coffins with his own hands. Unless it was an imperial mausoleum, ordinary grave-digging wasn’t particularly difficult for them. He no longer argued and tossed the pickaxe prepared for Wei Xun to Ruan San.

Their target was nameless female corpses buried within the past twenty days.

The two groups worked from dawn to dusk, digging up “brides” buried underground one by one, opening their coffins, then calling Wei Xun over to examine their faces. After he denied recognition, they would refill the earth and bury them again.

They worked intensively like this for four days, excavating twenty to thirty nameless female corpses. These deceased varied in age, some dying from famine, illness, murder, or drowning—each had their own manner of death, but none were the person they sought. Midway through, torrential rain turned the cemetery into a muddy quagmire. Everyone was forced to take a wretched bath, their patience nearly exhausted. If not for being able to pocket valuable burial goods from the graves, no one would want to continue this miserable mud-wrestling job.

Ruan San was so tired he couldn’t straighten his back, yet didn’t dare leave. After finishing one job, he flipped through his ledger and approached a fresh grave, pointing and saying, “There’s a piece of fresh merchandise buried seven days ago down there.”

The three men dug energetically and unearthed a cypress coffin. After removing the coffin nails and lifting the lid, just as the remains were exposed, Qiu Ren kicked Ruan San and roared angrily, “Are you messing with me? Look at this hair color—is this a Han person?!”

Ruan San got up and carefully examined the inside of the coffin. It was actually a golden-haired female corpse wearing a robe and skirt. It turned out the apprentice who delivered the body had been lazy and hadn’t recorded the corpse’s detailed characteristics in the ledger. He slapped his forehead and begged for forgiveness ingratiatingly: “Ah, old age brings forgetfulness. I’m absent-minded and actually forgot we recently took in a barbarian girl.”

Qiu Ren cursed, “Barbarian girl, my foot! You can’t even tell male from female—this is clearly a barbarian boy!”

Ruan San hurriedly said, “How could that be? This girl has been dead for several days, already turning purple, but you can still see she was pretty when alive. Besides, the customer isn’t stupid. It was cash on delivery, and they stripped and examined the corpse at the time, even checked the crotch.”

Qiu Ren angrily said, “I’ve touched more female corpses than you’ve slept with. How could I not distinguish between sexes? Just looking at this bone structure, you can tell it’s a man. Don’t think changing into women’s clothes can fool me.”

Tuoba Sanniang spat at him again. Qiu Ren had this perverse habit and was skilled in medicine, thoroughly familiar with human skeletal structure, extremely confident about this.

However, Ruan San made his living collecting corpses and arranging ghost marriages, and had some pride in his profession. He boldly argued: “Master Qiu is certainly well-informed, but we in this business taboo deceiving customers. If this gets out, Mangbei Hall won’t be able to do business anymore.”

He then untied the female corpse’s skirt and displayed the lower body to Qiu Ren: “Look, smooth and bare.”

Qiu Ren sneered mockingly: “How ignorant. You haven’t seen eunuch corpses before. Cutting off a few dicks and balls doesn’t make someone a woman.”

He pointed to the corpse’s hip area: “The pelvis is narrow and high, not fully developed, the angle not as sharp as an adult man’s.” Then he pointed to the groin: “The crack at the perineum is torn forward from the anus, not a natural female opening. This is a boy who was castrated before reaching adulthood, died under torture. You’re trying to sell dog meat as mutton, using him for ghost marriages. Aren’t you afraid the groom will come collect his debt at night?”

Since ancient times, only the imperial court used eunuchs. After the royal family moved back to Chang’an, such fresh corpses were extremely rare in Luoyang. The two men argued around the coffin, the corpse’s clothes completely removed, exposing wounds covering the entire body.

Tuoba Sanniang already detested Qiu Ren and was unwilling to participate in the conversation. However, after her gaze swept over the corpse’s wounds, she said, “He didn’t die under torture.”

Qiu Ren was startled: “What?”

Tuoba Sanniang said indifferently, “This was sadistic murder purely for sexual gratification. The wounds are different from those left by torture and interrogation.”

Having his professional expertise questioned by a fellow sect member in front of outsiders, Qiu Ren immediately felt humiliated and said sarcastically, “Fourth Brother has cooperated with Senior Sister many times. How do you explain this?”

Tuoba Sanniang was unwilling to explain further. Her willow-leaf eyebrows stood upright as she suddenly raised her voice and shouted, “Whatever this old lady says goes!”

Her voice was extremely sharp and piercing. The other two men were deafened, seeing stars. Ruan San couldn’t provoke Qiu Ren, and Qiu Ren couldn’t provoke Sanniang, so he immediately changed his tune: “Senior Sister is right.”

Tuoba Sanniang fell silent again. But she thought to herself that this barbarian boy died from sadistic torture, surely suffering countless humiliations and torments while alive, yet his death mask was remarkably peaceful and serene. His left hand pointed upward, thumb and middle finger touching to form a circle—the Giving Seal. His right hand pointed downward—the Demon-Subduing Seal. Even after rigor mortis eased, he maintained the hand seal positions. Such circumstances were truly rare.

No matter what kind of person he was in life, he was equally unfortunate in death. Because his body was different from others, he was sold as a female corpse for ghost marriage. One could say his bones were sucked dry, chewed completely clean.

With Sanniang’s word as final judgment, the argument ended. Ruan San lifted the coffin lid, about to seal it again, when he heard a fourth voice say, “Dress him properly before sealing the coffin.”

Ruan San was startled. He heard this ice-cold voice come from the mouth of the blue-robed youth sitting nearby, momentarily unsure of his intentions. The ruthless people of Canyang Courtyard had to grit their teeth and call this youth “Senior Brother,” so he naturally dared not be disrespectful.

Qiu Ren lightly scoffed and muttered quietly, “You usually curse me for being sick in the head, and I accept it. But this person insists on dressing up stranger corpses respectably before burial every time. Who’s really sicker?”

Wei Xun had no patience for lengthy explanations. He took two steps to the coffin’s side and reached out to pull the corpse’s robe together. Who would have thought that on the pale, bluish chest, three bright red rouge marks gleamed conspicuously. He was instantly thunderstruck.

The deceased had been pressed down and violated by many people while alive. The fingerprint outlines had already blurred, but the oil-based pigment was firmly colored, the hues themselves unchanged. Compared to the bloodstains and wounds on the corpse that had turned dark brown, the red color appeared particularly vivid and striking, like some kind of mark.

Wei Xun’s hands trembled. Suppressing his surging emotions, he reached out to touch the red pigment and rubbed it between his fingertips.

His eyes widened as he stared straight at Ruan San, who shuddered at his sinister, crazed gaze.

“Where did you collect this barbarian boy’s corpse from?!”

After setting up the “Nine Phases True Form Diagram,” Li Yu observed it for three days before his interest quickly faded. A dying, silent girl naturally couldn’t compare to the pleasures of music, dance, and banquets. He had always lacked patience, thereafter only visiting Xiangyun Hall intermittently for brief moments each day. He had thought that after cutting off food and water, she would quickly die from hunger and thirst, but on the fifth day, heavy rain fell and she rallied once more.

Though already sun-scorched beyond recognition and fallen into a coma, her chest continued to rise and fall steadily. No one had ever seen such a tenacious person. The stewards and servants of Xiangyun Hall all considered it supernatural, not daring to approach even while sweeping. By the seventh day, she still breathed.

Dong Shiguang finally could no longer endure it. On the seventh night, he went to the bedchamber to describe the girl’s condition to Li Yu, carefully offering counsel: “Your Highness, this woman may not be auspicious, but rather a demon.”

Li Yu slammed his wine cup violently on the table and angrily said, “She truly is a Mara woman, a ghost creature sent by heavenly demons to obstruct this prince’s cultivation. We cannot keep her any longer!”

After pondering a moment, Li Yu remembered that Danniao had once overheard his conversation with the princess consort. He couldn’t entrust this to others—it had to be handled by a trusted confidant. He thus commanded: “You personally go remove her. Do not damage her appearance—you must leave her whole corpse intact so the nine phases can take form. You know how to handle this.”

The steward bowed and replied: “Yes, Your Highness.”

Walking out of the bedchamber, Dong Shiguang sighed. He naturally understood what “leave the whole corpse intact” meant. When executing people of noble status, considering their dignity, hanging or beheading were typically not used. Of course, that girl was merely a lowly slave from the entertainment quarters. Prince Qi’s mercy in leaving her corpse intact was so he could have a complete form for future contemplation. Despite all this persuasion, he still hadn’t abandoned the utterly foul nine-phase contemplation.

For such execution orders, poison was the first choice.

Dong Shiguang secretly took some arsenic, dissolved it in water, filled a cup and carried it to Xiangyun Hall. The girl nailed in the courtyard still lay supine. After consecutive days of sun exposure, hunger and thirst, she appeared haggard and withered. Her originally lustrous skin was swollen and red, densely covered with blisters. After the blisters dried and burst, they cracked and peeled, creating a sight too horrible to behold. If not for her chest still rising and falling, she already looked freshly dead.

“Danniao, the master has shown mercy. Quickly drink the water—once you drink it down, you’ll be free.” Dong Shiguang crouched on the ground, bringing the cup to the girl’s cracked lips. Arsenic was colorless and tasteless, the liquid in the cup tasting like clear water. He figured she must be extremely thirsty and would surely drain it in one gulp.

However, the girl kept her eyes closed, lips slightly parted. The poison was poured in but flowed back out from the corners of her mouth unchanged. After Dong Shiguang busied himself for a long time, not a single drop had gone down her throat. He speculated that once someone fell into a coma, they couldn’t ingest food or water, making poison difficult to administer.

The steward hadn’t anticipated that Baozhu actually still retained consciousness at this time, merely closing her eyes to conserve energy. When Dong Shiguang came to feed her water, she had already guessed something was wrong with it. Though her intestines were parched and lungs burning, she still used all her willpower to suppress instinct, avoiding drinking poison to quench thirst.

Two days ago during that torrential rain, she had tilted her head and drunk her fill of muddy water, slowly crawling back from death’s door. At the brink of death, the mysterious visions appearing in the sky made Baozhu realize she bore a mission. At least before killing Li Yu, she could not yet die.

Baozhu kept her eyes closed, concentrating and waiting for the poison-feeder’s next move.

Dong Shiguang rubbed his hands together. Years of luxurious living had made his arms pale, soft and weak—he lacked confidence in strangling a living person with a white silk cord. Moreover, she wore shackles around her neck, making the operation inconvenient.

Only one final choice remained—bowstring strangulation. That was the preferred method for executing enemy generals on battlefields, rarely used otherwise. Dong Shiguang was no military commander and had no habit of carrying a bow. His belt only held a small dagger for cutting mutton. At this late hour, if he left Xiangyun Hall for the long houses where guards resided, retrieved the item and returned, it would be quite a long walk, and he really didn’t want such trouble.

After thinking a moment, Dong Shiguang suddenly had a flash of inspiration, remembering there was a ready-made weapon nearby.

When Prince Qi rehearsed the new “Breaking Through Enemy Lines Dance,” he had ordered him to replicate one of Emperor Taizong’s Giant Que Heaven Bows. It was a dance prop, not stored in the armory, just placed in the storage room east of Xiangyun Hall, only dozens of steps away.

Thinking of this, Dong Shiguang couldn’t help but secretly praise his own cleverness. He opened the storage room door and easily found the giant bow leaning against the wall.

Taking the bow, Dong Shiguang looked down at the unconscious girl, feeling he no longer needed to guard against her. For convenience in strangulation, Dong Shiguang unlocked the shackles around her neck and slipped the bowstring around her throat. Just two twists and she would obediently meet her maker.

Just as he was thinking this, the next moment, Dong Shiguang suddenly felt his left ankle trip. The girl’s arms wrapped around his thigh, her head butting against his belly with all her strength. Dong Shiguang was caught completely off guard, lost his balance instantly, and toppled backward.

Serpent Coiling Ankle—Baozhu hadn’t used this technique for ten years and was quite rusty. In her ignorant childhood, she had been obsessed with wrestling for a period, spending all day grappling and playing with the court strongmen. To make the princess happy, everyone pretended to be thoroughly defeated by the little girl, even Prince Shao did likewise.

It wasn’t until Baozhu grew older and gradually learned the truth that it became improper for her to wrestle intimately with men. She transferred her interest to archery and horsemanship, though she still enjoyed watching wrestling competitions daily.

How could superior martial arts allow others to get close? Wrestling techniques weren’t for killing but focused on close-contact grappling, throwing and pinning. Baozhu’s skills had long grown rusty, but fortunately her opponent was merely a soft, fat man who avoided physical labor. Catching him off guard, she toppled him in one move.

Dong Shiguang was greatly shocked and was about to shout when he suddenly felt a chill at his ribs. The breath for calling out leaked away, and his throat made choking sounds without managing to cry out.

After Baozhu embraced him and rolled him down, she smoothly drew the meat-cutting dagger from his waist. From bottom to top, along the rib edge, she stabbed into his chest cavity, then gripped the handle and viciously twisted, shredding both heart and lungs together.

In the past when she led large groups of guards hunting in the forbidden gardens, after shooting large animals like wild boars, if one arrow wasn’t fatal, the guards would finish off the prey this way. She had never operated personally but had watched until thoroughly familiar. Entering the blade from the soft abdomen along the rib edge was light and effortless, wouldn’t be blocked by the sternum.

Humans and pigs were really not much different—vital points were in the same place. Dong Shiguang quickly expired.

Finding the keys to unlock the foot shackles, after being nailed to the ground motionless for so long, Baozhu’s knees were somewhat weak. Supporting herself with one hand on the Giant Que Heaven Bow, she stood up naked. The hot blood spraying from the enemy’s chest cavity splashed all over her, flowing over her dry, cold skin in a surge of steaming wet warmth.

“Ptui.”

Baozhu stood bathed in blood, pursing her lips and spitting the remaining poison water onto the ghoulish corpse. With a clang, the jade arm ring slipped off her emaciated arm and shattered into several pieces.

She bent down to pick up the cloth that had once covered her body, draping it diagonally over her left shoulder with the right shoulder bare, tying the two corners under her armpit. This was a purple brocade with gold-printed lotus and scrolling grass patterns—beautiful celestial garments.

That day at Changqiu Temple’s divine consultation, nine rounds of divination failed to select anyone among the candidates, even making Guanyin weep. The Bodhisattva could no longer bear to watch such depraved brutality occur and was unwilling to choose any sacrifice—until she stepped forward from the crowd to wipe tears from the Guanyin statue.

“Golden sacred divination, responding to heaven’s mandate.” Guanyin herself had chosen her to end this endless tragedy. Li Yu’s fall into demons began with coveting his mother. As the noble consort’s successor, she was destined by fate to personally eliminate this beast who had lost all human morals.

Seven days and seven nights of hunger, thirst, torment and deadly struggle—at this moment, Baozhu felt her thinking sharp and her whole body filled with strange power. The moon shone bright as water, everything in Prince Qi’s mansion appeared clearly in her vision, bright as daylight.

The moon would rise, the sun would set; the thorn bow and bamboo arrows—she had obtained one.

Like an infant learning to walk, she stumbled forward seven steps, bloody footprints spreading behind her. After readjusting to upright walking, Baozhu grasped the giant bow and ran barefoot toward the storage room of Xiangyun Hall.

Author’s Notes: Using rectangular cloth to cover the left shoulder while baring the right shoulder is a type of bodhisattva dress. Mummy powder was a popular aphrodisiac among Europeans from medieval to modern times—material I researched while writing “The Siren,” now put to use again.