When Li Ying stepped back onto the Path of Life and Death, she finally understood why the ferryman said there was no return from this path. Unlike the pitch-black darkness of her journey in, where one couldn’t see their fingers before their face, the return path had a faint glimmer of light. From this light, she could see vast fields of red spider lilies stretching in all directions. Whether one went left or right, they would eventually find themselves trapped among these dense spider lilies. The flower petals were layered one upon another, red as if dyed with the blood of departed souls. Besides these ubiquitous spider lilies, the Path of Life and Death held nothing but boundless gloom and silence.

Being trapped here forever would indeed drive one mad—able to see the light, able to see the flowers, yet never able to escape. Eventually, it would be better to feed one’s flesh to the spider lilies than to fall eternally into this endless void.

Li Ying gripped the Buddhist bone relic in her hand. Slowly, she raised it high. The Buddhist relic shone brilliantly, and the golden figures of the ten great disciples before the Buddha Shakyamuni gradually appeared in the sky. Li Ying watched as countless spider lilies slowly closed their blood-red petals and lowered their proud stems, cowering prostrate on the ground, making way for a life path. In an instant, a winding trail appeared before Li Ying. Overjoyed, she pressed her palms together in gratitude to the ten disciples, then quickly stepped onto the narrow path, leaving the Path of Life and Death behind.

While Li Ying was trapped in the netherworld, at the Cui residence, Cui Xun opened the gilded silver incense ball that Li Ying had given him. He removed the incense pellet, lit it on a candle, placed it in the incense receptacle, then snapped the incense ball shut.

Wispy smoke rose from the flower and bird patterns carved into the incense ball, and a faint fragrance lingered at the tip of his nose. Cui Xun detected a subtle plum fragrance as well.

He held the silver incense ball, which had grown hot from the burning incense. In his daze, he continued to grip it until his palm was burned red, and only then did he realize what had happened.

After this realization, he gripped the scorching incense ball even tighter, as if in penance. His palm’s skin seared as though his whole body was on fire, the pain unbearable. Cui Xun lowered his eyes. After a while, he suddenly stood up, left the residence, and rode away on horseback.

Cui Xun went to Ximing Temple.

The abbot of Ximing Temple dared not neglect him and came to welcome him personally. After dismounting, Cui Xun’s first words were: “Abbot, I wish to light an eternal lamp.”

The abbot was slightly surprised. Over the years, Cui Xun had lit an eternal lamp for his mother every year on the fifteenth day of the first month. But he had already done so this year; why would he come to light another?

He tentatively asked: “Is Lesser Chamberlain Cui lighting another lamp for his mother?”

Cui Xun was silent for a moment, then said: “No.”

The abbot dared not ask further. He led Cui Xun to the main hall, where Buddha Shakyamuni sat solemnly on a lotus throne, his countenance dignified, his gaze serene. Cui Xun bowed three times, then rose to light the eternal lamp at the incense burner before the Buddha, respectfully placing it in the main hall.

After he had done all this, the abbot finally dared to speak: “Lesser Chamberlain Cui, may I ask whose name is engraved on this eternal lamp?”

Cui Xun remained silent. After a moment, he said: “Princess Yong’an, Li Ying.”

“Princess Yong’an?” The abbot was even more surprised. Hadn’t the Princess died thirty years ago? This Lesser Chamberlain Cui had no relation to her, so why would he light a lamp for her?

Cui Xun did not explain, only asking: “Abbot, I’ve heard that offering blood to an eternal lamp can strengthen the soul’s willpower, helping it to reincarnate sooner. Is this true?”

The abbot was taken aback. He nodded: “There is such a saying.”

Cui Xun nodded. He drew out the dagger he carried, cutting along his palm. Crimson blood dripped into the lamp oil, drop by drop, merging with the pale oil and creating tiny ripples. The crisp dripping sound of blood echoed clearly in the quiet main hall.

The abbot was completely stunned, but on second thought, he figured Cui Xun must be doing this to please the Empress Dowager. So he asked no more, but pressed his palms together and said: “Lesser Chamberlain Cui’s sincerity is evident. The Empress Dowager will surely be pleased.”

Hearing this, Cui Xun merely smiled faintly. He casually wrapped his bleeding palm with a silk handkerchief, then said to the abbot: “Abbot, I wish to stay alone in this main hall for a while. The abbot need not accompany me.”

The abbot understood and withdrew, leaving Cui Xun alone in the vast main hall.

Cui Xun stirred the dark red flame of the eternal lamp with his finger. The flame scorched his finger, causing him to frown slightly. After a long while, he withdrew his finger and, facing the eternal lamp, softly said: “Princess, I have wronged you.”

As if in a daze, the gentle girl’s words echoed in his ears, one by one.

She had said, “I know you may have many things in your heart, but no matter what, only by living do all possibilities exist.”

She had said: “If no one cherishes you, you should at least cherish yourself.”

She had said, “If you truly did not surrender to the Turks, you can tell me, instead of keeping everything in your heart. That way is too painful.”

She had said: “Everyone was cursing you, but I felt that you must have had reasons for what you did.”

Finally, she had said: “Actually, I very much wish to hear about what’s in your heart. But I’m afraid I won’t have the chance now.”

Cui Xun closed his eyes. In his pain, the veins on his forehead throbbed. It was unclear whether this pain came from his wounded palm or his aching heart.

He slowly clenched his fingers. After a while, he gradually opened his eyes: “Princess, I deceived you.”

“It wasn’t Wang Tuan’er who killed you. I also didn’t report this matter to the Empress Dowager. And Wang Ranxi isn’t dead.”

In his three years as an official, he had handled numerous bloody cases, but never had he felt such guilt as today. Perhaps it was because the girl’s heart was too pure; deceiving her caused such unbearable remorse.

Cui Xun pursed his thin lips. He hung the chain of the gilded silver incense ball on the lamp post. The lamplight flickered, casting shadows, making his lotus-like face appear even paler in the dim yellow candlelight. Cui Xun lowered his eyes: “Princess, perhaps before long, I will go to the netherworld and personally apologize to you. At that time, whether you wish to kill me or flay me, I will submit to your will.”

Cui Xun stayed at Ximing Temple until the fifth watch before returning to his residence to prepare for court.

But as soon as he returned, Wu Hou, who had been frantically searching for him, hurriedly reported: “Lesser Chamberlain, terrible news! The Investigation Hall is on fire!”

The prison cells of the Investigation Hall had caught fire accidentally. The flames reached the sky, casting a red glow over half of Chang’an city. By the time Cui Xun hurriedly arrived, the great fire had already been vigorously extinguished by Wu Hou, but all the prisoners in the cells had been burned to death.

Among them was Wang Ranxi.

When Wang Ranxi died, she was still clutching that string of small-leaf red sandalwood prayer beads, as if by holding these beads when she went to the netherworld, she could redeem all her sins.

Her death caused huge waves in the imperial court. A third-rank official’s wife had been imprisoned by Cui Xun in the Investigation Hall, severely tortured, and in the end, burned to death there? Where was divine justice? Where was the law of the land?

Court officials filed impeachment after impeachment against Cui Xun. The aggrieved husband, Minister of War Pei Guanyue, shut himself away in grief and didn’t go out. Though he didn’t impeach Cui Xun himself, censors indignant on his behalf submitted memorial after memorial to Daming Palace. Once again, Cui Xun became the target of widespread criticism.

At the Cui residence, Cui Xun wore a black crane-patterned cloak. He covered his sleeve as he coughed continuously, his face flushed with fever. He had fallen ill after the great fire at the Investigation Hall. He was furious in his heart. He had finally captured Wang Ranxi and was so close to what he had been pursuing, but because of one fire, everything had turned to ashes.

He had also investigated the cause of the fire. It wasn’t an accident but was deliberately set by a jailer from the Investigation Hall. That jailer owed enormous gambling debts and was about to lose everything, but suddenly came into a fortune and paid off his debts. Shortly after, the Investigation Hall caught fire, and the jailer was also burned to death. It was obvious this was no coincidence.

But with no witnesses left, one could only say the opponent had outmaneuvered him again.

Cui Xun was filled with indignation. He sat upright at his desk, unrolled the bamboo scroll, dipped his brush in cinnabar, and reluctantly crossed out the three characters “Wang Ranxi.”

After crossing them out, he threw down the wolf-hair brush and bent over the desk, coughing incessantly. There was even faint blood on his silk handkerchief. Cui Xun clutched the handkerchief tightly. He lowered his raven-like eyelashes. No, he couldn’t die, at least not now!

He picked up the celadon medicine bowl from the desk, the contents so bitter they made one nauseous. But this time, there was no one to warm his medicine or add a piece of sweet frost to it.

Cui Xun lowered his raven eyelashes. He tilted his head back and drank the cold medicine in one gulp. But perhaps because the medicine was too cold, once it reached his stomach, he began to cough even more violently. He coughed until his vision darkened, then suddenly saw a slender figure standing before his desk.

Cui Xun was stunned: “Princess… Yong’an?”

The visitor was indeed Li Ying. She had emerged from the Path of Life and Death and returned to the human world. The first thing she did upon her return was to find Cui Xun.

Cui Xun stared at her in surprise: “Didn’t you go to the netherworld?”

Li Ying gritted her teeth. Her clear azure eyes now held a hint of hatred: “Why did you deceive me?”

Cui Xun was startled: “You know everything?”

“Yes, I know everything. I know it wasn’t Wang Tuan’er who killed me. I know Wang Ranxi wasn’t dead. So the confession at the Investigation Hall was just a deception you created, wasn’t it?”

Faced with Li Ying’s questioning, a ripple appeared in Cui Xun’s otherwise calm eyes. He lowered his gaze and admitted frankly: “Yes.”

Li Ying couldn’t believe it: “Why would you do this? Do you know I almost died in the netherworld? Why would you harm me like this?”

Cui Xun felt a sweet, metallic taste in his throat. He covered his mouth with the silk handkerchief as he coughed, and a drop of fresh blood fell onto the bamboo scroll. He looked down; almost all the names on the scroll had been crossed out. Even Wang Ranxi was dead, yet he still had gained nothing.

Suddenly, a feeling of immense frustration and anger welled up in his heart. He raised his head, looked at Li Ying, and said through gritted teeth: “Because from the very beginning, I never intended to investigate your case.”

Li Ying was dumbfounded: “If that’s so, why did you agree to help me?”

“I wanted to get rid of you as soon as possible! So you would stop pestering me! As for whether you lived or died after going to the netherworld, what does that have to do with me?” Cui Xun laughed coldly. “I already told you, in your next life, don’t meet someone like me!”

Li Ying’s eyes reddened. She simply couldn’t believe that while she trusted Cui Xun so much, he had been planning to deceive her from the very beginning. Heartbroken, she cried out: “Fine! I misjudged you! My mother also misjudged you! You, Cui Xun, are just as the common people say—through and through, not a good person!”

Cui Xun gripped the silk handkerchief tightly. He said coldly, “Now you know I’m not a good person. Isn’t it too late? Let me tell you why I never intended to investigate your case.”

He coughed twice, his ghostly pale eyebrows and eyes tinged with a hint of color, looking bewitchingly captivating, but the words he spoke were extremely vicious: “In the tenth year of Longxing, the Prince of Jiangzhou rebelled, pointing directly at the Empress Dowager as a hen crowing like a rooster, bringing calamity to the court. In his declaration of war against the Empress Dowager, there was a line: ‘Murdered her daughter, framed the Empress, arousing the anger of both gods and men, intolerable to heaven’s principles!'”