In Linde Hall, the Empress Dowager had taken her seat. Though over sixty years of age, her hair was still black as a waterfall, her eyebrows delicate and teeth white—she appeared like a beautiful woman in her forties. The Empress Dowager had been feeling unwell recently and had said she would not attend the New Year’s Eve banquet, yet halfway through the feast, she still came despite her illness. The court officials speculated that she remained unwilling to relinquish her power, and even though His Majesty had been ruling personally for several years, he still had to submit to her control.

Cui Xun had also taken his seat, sitting upright with proper etiquette. The officials around him ceased their conversations when they saw him arrive, their eyes unable to hide their contempt. Some even moved their seats slightly away to show their disdain for him.

Cui Xun paid no attention to this and simply picked up a piece of sliced fish to chew. His fingers were long and beautiful, his dining posture extremely elegant. Anyone looking at him would think him a worthy son of the Boling Cui clan, the foremost of the nation’s noble families. Yet who could imagine that this young man, as refined as rare orchids, was a cruel official who had fabricated countless false cases?

The Empress Dowager seemed to glance in Cui Xun’s direction, then whispered something to her attending eunuch. Moments later, the eunuch brought over a bowl of lamb soup with astragalus. The eunuch respectfully placed the bowl on Cui Xun’s table and said, “The Empress Dowager says that Junior Minister Cui fears the cold, so she specially bestows this lamb and astragalus soup to warm your body.”

As soon as the eunuch finished speaking, the officials around Cui Xun gave him peculiar looks—some envious, some jealous, but most contemptuous. They all thought that the Empress Dowager indeed showed unusual favor toward Cui Xun. He was only twenty-three years old, while the Empress Dowager was old enough to be his grandmother. How shameless Cui Xun was!

But the Empress Dowager’s power was immense. The Late Emperor had passed away twenty years ago, and the current Emperor had been young when he ascended the throne. The Empress Dowager had ruled from behind the curtain, and after twenty years of careful management, the court was filled with her supporters. Otherwise, Cui Xun, who had surrendered to the Turks, should have been executed, but instead had transformed into a fourth-rank Junior Minister of the Investigation Department. Thinking of this, even the upright officials dared not show their contempt for Cui Xun in the Empress Dowager’s presence, but instead remained silent and lowered their heads.

Though the New Year’s Eve banquet had its small incident, it continued with revelry throughout the night, extraordinarily lively. After the banquet came the Grand Court Assembly on New Year’s Day. Daming Palace displayed drums and wind instruments, arranged carriages and sedan chairs. His Majesty wore the imperial robes and crown, while princes, nobles, civil and military officials, and envoys from other states paid their respects to the Emperor—a scene of great peace and prosperity. By the time the Grand Court Assembly ended, the sun was already setting in the west.

Cui Xun, having endured the all-night New Year’s Eve banquet and then a full day of the Grand Court Assembly, was utterly exhausted. He took a carriage back to his mansion located in Xuanyang Ward. This mansion had been bestowed by the Empress Dowager. Though large, it had only one old mute servant, as Cui Xun disliked being waited upon by others. He alighted from his carriage, entered his room, and went to bed. However, Cui Xun had always been a light sleeper. Even though he was extremely tired now, he could not fall into a deep sleep but instead dozed on and off repeatedly until the hour of the Tiger (3-5 am).

Around the fourth watch (1-3 am), Cui Xun seemed to be awakened by a nightmare. He rose and found that the window in his room had somehow opened, with cool breezes blowing in. Cui Xun put on clothes and got out of bed to close the window. As he did so, he vaguely glimpsed a figure wearing a narrow-sleeved, multi-colored skirt.

But when Cui Xun looked more carefully, the figure had disappeared. Cui Xun thought he had seen wrong due to exhaustion and didn’t take it to heart. He closed the window and returned to bed, but this time he could no longer fall asleep. His mind kept recalling the contents of his nightmare, and he lay there with his eyes open until dawn.

When the morning drums sounded three thousand beats, Cui Xun knew it was the fifth watch (5-7 am). Chang’an city erupted with the sounds of crowing roosters and barking dogs, extraordinarily lively. Cui Xun put on his clothes and got up. It was the second day of the first lunar month, and all officials had a seven-day holiday. The common people of Chang’an were visiting from house to house to pay New Year’s calls. Outside the mansions of the nobles residing in Xuanyang Ward, there was a constant stream of carriages and horses. Students and minor officials waited at the gates with their visiting cards, hoping to secure a promising future. Compared to this hustle and bustle, Cui Xun’s mansion was exceptionally quiet, without even door gods or Spring Festival couplets posted.

Two scholars from humble backgrounds passed by Cui Xun’s mansion and, seeing how deserted it was, couldn’t help but take a few extra glances. One scholar muttered, “Since this house is in Xuanyang Ward, how come there isn’t a single visitor?”

The other scholar smiled suggestively: “You don’t know, this is the mansion of the ‘Lotus Flower Gentleman.'”

“The Lotus Flower Gentleman? Cui Xun?”

“Who else? The upright officials disdain to associate with him, and as for those lesser men who do wish to befriend him, he looks down on them and drives away whoever comes. Over time, hasn’t his door become as quiet as if crows could roost there? The Cui clan’s mansion isn’t far from his, but he has long been removed from the Cui family genealogy, so he has no relatives to visit. On this joyous New Year’s Day, he’s probably the only person in all of Chang’an who is so alone.”

“He brought it upon himself.”

After expressing their contempt for a while, the two scholars left Cui Xun’s mansion with disgust. In front of them stood a beautiful young woman in narrow-sleeved robes and a skirt, holding an umbrella, but the two men seemed not to see her at all. They passed right by her and walked away. The young woman turned around, staring blankly at their backs, then sighed softly. Her figure then directly passed through the tightly closed main gate and entered the mansion.

Cui Xun had just put on his deep crimson everyday clothes and tied his belt, but had not yet put on his headgear. In the bronze mirror, his black hair was like a jade crown, his crimson clothes like rosy clouds, and his peach blossom eyes rippled with charm. However, his face was too pale, and his gaze too frost-like, which somewhat diluted the allure and splendor of those peach blossom eyes.

After fastening his belt, Cui Xun casually looked up and saw a woman’s figure reflected in the bronze mirror.

He turned around and saw a young woman standing before him. She wore a green short-sleeved upper garment and a red and white multi-colored skirt. Her hair was styled in double buns with a celestial-gazing topknot, adorned with gold flower hairpins. Her forehead was decorated with droplet-shaped makeup, and a thin gauze scarf draped over her shoulders. The young woman’s appearance was one of bright eyes and white teeth, with the grace of orchids and fragrant plants—truly a rare beauty who could topple kingdoms. Yet Cui Xun frowned.

He frowned because he found it strange.

Though the young woman was dressed luxuriously, there was something odd about her in every aspect. She wore her hair in double buns with a celestial-gazing topknot, dressed in a red and white multi-colored skirt, adorned with gold flower hairpins, and had droplet-shaped makeup on her forehead. But the fashionable hairstyle for noble ladies at present was the crossing-heart bun, with round-collared upper garments and single-colored long skirts, decorated with dangling ornaments and full forehead makeup. This young woman’s attire resembled the style from thirty years ago, during the Taichang era.

Cui Xun knitted his brows and asked coldly, “Who are you? Why have you intruded into my mansion?”

Faced with his unfriendly questioning, the young woman was neither angered nor frightened. Instead, she looked delighted: “You can see me?”

Cui Xun was displeased. Though his health was poor, he wasn’t blind. With such a large living person before him, how could he not see her?

He even wondered if this beautiful young woman might be mentally deficient, wearing outdated clothing, and asking such a ridiculous question. He said, “Of course I can see you.”

The young woman smiled brilliantly: “That’s wonderful.”

With natural grace and a noble air about her brows, she said: “I am Princess Yong’an, Li Ying. I have come to ask you to investigate a case for me.”

She paused, then continued: “I want to ask you to investigate who killed me.”

It was the strangest scene imaginable.

A princess who had died long ago politely asked a notorious, cruel official to investigate the cause of her death. Even though Cui Xun was accustomed to all sorts of extraordinary situations, he couldn’t help but be stunned for a moment. But he quickly regained his composure and raised an eyebrow to ask: “You are a ghost?”

Li Ying nodded: “Yes.”

Seeing a ghost in broad daylight, Cui Xun showed none of the fear typical of ordinary people. He wasn’t afraid of ghosts at all. He said, “You’ve come to ask me to investigate your case?”

Li Ying nodded: “Yes.”

Cui Xun said, “Your case already has a conclusion. It was the doing of Prince Consort Zheng Yun.”

Li Ying shook her head: “It wasn’t Zheng Yun.”

“Why not?”

Li Ying said, “Because for these thirty years, I have been unable to reincarnate.”

Li Ying had died at sixteen. If Zheng Yun had killed her, and Zheng Yun had been executed by the Late Emperor, she should have been able to reincarnate. But she had been trapped in the Lotus Pond all this time, unable to be reborn. This meant that the real murderer had not yet been punished, so Li Ying’s resentful spirit could not disperse, and she could not reincarnate.

But if it wasn’t Zheng Yun who killed her, then who could it be? Li Ying didn’t know, so she could only seek Cui Xun’s help.

Cui Xun asked again: “Why seek me out?”

Li Ying replied: “Because you rescued me from the Lotus Pond.”

Since Li Ying had drowned in the Lotus Pond thirty years ago, her soul had been trapped in the water, unable to leave. For these thirty years, she had watched the pond’s lotus flowers gradually wither, the goldfish at the bottom slowly die, and the green algae grow from the four corners to fill the entire pond in summer, then shrink back to the corners in winter. In the darkness at the bottom of the pond, she would hear the three thousand dawn drum beats from Chengtian Gate of Taiji Palace every day, knowing another day had passed.

Sometimes, newly arrived palace maids who didn’t know the prohibition would come to play at the Lotus Pond. They would lean over the edge, giggling as they scooped up the green algae by the pond. From the bottom of the water, she would wave her arms, wanting them to speak with her, but they couldn’t hear her voice. Her transparent fingers would pass through the bodies of those little palace maids, who could not feel her presence at all.

Li Ying had spent thirty years in endless solitude, until she saw a man wearing white fox fur drinking by the Lotus Pond. His gold cup rolled and fell into the pond, and the man reached into the Lotus Pond to retrieve it. She was so lonely—seeing those slender fingers so close, she reached out to touch his palm.

But this time, her fingers didn’t pass through the man’s palm. Instead, they pressed against it, their fingers intertwining. Li Ying was both surprised and delighted. The man seemed to sense her presence as well. Perhaps his living energy warmed Li Ying, making her body, long trapped in the cold and damp environment, feel warm again. She slowly raised her head, and at that moment, the water in the Lotus Pond seemed to become clear. From underwater, she saw a face as beautiful as a lotus.

Then, a small eunuch hurriedly approached, and the lotus-like man was called away by the eunuch. Li Ying thought it was a dream. When she closed her eyes and opened them again, she had left the Lotus Pond that had trapped her for thirty years and was standing beside it.

Her soul had finally left the Lotus Pond, and she could now move freely around Daming Palace.

But the Daming Palace of today was no longer her home. She had been dead for a full thirty years. From the palace servants and eunuchs who secretly came to play at the Lotus Pond, she learned that her father had passed away, her mother had become the Empress Dowager, and she had a younger brother who had ascended the throne, with the reign title Longxing.

Except for her mother, who had eternal lamps lit for her in all forty thousand Buddhist temples across Great Zhou, hardly anyone remembered her anymore. Even when mentioned, she was only referred to as the princess who triggered the Taichang Blood Incident and caused rivers of blood to flow in Chang’an city.

But she never wanted to cause the Taichang Blood Incident or the deaths of over ten thousand people in Chang’an. Didn’t she want to stay by her father and mother’s side, bring them joy, and continue her happy, smooth life?

Her heart was filled with grievance and bitterness. She wanted to see her mother, but she couldn’t. Her mother lived in Penglai Hall, and the doorways of her palace had door gods posted. As a ghost, she couldn’t enter.

She wandered through the palace, but not a single maid or eunuch could see her. Her body could pass through rockeries, trees, and palace walls, yet not a single person noticed her. She finally realized in despair that although she had left the Lotus Pond, her situation was no different from being in it.

Later, when she grew tired of walking, she returned to the edge of the Lotus Pond. She was so lonely. Her mother had lit eternal lamps throughout the country, hoping she could reincarnate and renew their mother-daughter bond in another life. She also wanted to reincarnate soon and meet her mother, but she simply couldn’t.

Once, a ghost officer passed by the Lotus Pond, and she begged him to take her away. But he said that as a victim of wrongful death, she could not reincarnate until her murderer was found.

So it wasn’t Zheng Yun who killed her.

To reincarnate, she first needed to find out who had killed her.

She sat by the Lotus Pond, thinking about what had happened before her death, but she could only remember the letter Zheng Yun had written to her. Everything else, she had forgotten.

So she thought of the only man who could see her—Cui Xun.

Cui Xun was the Junior Minister of the Investigation Department, established by her mother. Its function was similar to the Ministry of Justice, specializing in criminal cases. He would surely be able to help her clear her grievance.

Li Ying looked at Cui Xun with hope: “Junior Minister Cui, you are the only person who can see me. Can you help me?”

Cui Xun’s eyes were as calm as a still well. He replied indifferently: “Why should I help you? Help a princess who has been dead for thirty years?”