That evening, Pei Min instructed her maidservant Qing’er to move the bedding into Qin Yao’s room, took off her shoes, climbed onto the bed, and lay down beside Qin Yao.
The two of them chatted at length.
Qin Yao recounted the entire affair of the jade corpse to Pei Min from beginning to end, and the portion concerning Xu Shenming she described with particular care.
Since Pei Shao had already told Pei Min about it once the day before, the shock and fear she’d originally felt had considerably diminished, and in their place had grown a fresh curiosity, so she listened with great attentiveness.
When Qin Yao reached the part about Xu Shenming being willing to endure Chun Qiao’s abuse and torment rather than harm the innocent, she quietly watched Pei Min’s expression, and sure enough saw a subtle change come over her face.
Qin Yao grew all the more certain in her heart and murmured softly: “Hey, I’ve laid out all my own secrets to you one by one — you ought to tell me what’s on your mind too. For instance, this Xu Shenming — what do you think of him?”
Without waiting for a reply, she added: “In my view, he seems quite good.”
Pei Min immediately flushed a deep crimson and stammered: “You — you — what are you saying? I can’t make heads or tails of a single word!”
Qin Yao inwardly rolled her eyes and couldn’t help giving her a light push. “You really are too dishonest. Even now you want to keep it from me? That night when we were talking on Yuquan Mountain, wasn’t the person you mentioned Xu Shenming?”
Pei Min was momentarily speechless, and only after a good while did she say with a twinge of guilt: “It’s not that I was deliberately hiding it from you. It’s just — as you’ve seen yourself — that person blows hot and cold, and I can’t fathom his intentions at all. What could I possibly tell you?”
Her complexion grew dim and shadowed. She thought back to a year ago when she had gone with her mother to attend a banquet at the Anlu Duke’s estate. She had encountered Xu Shenming at the entrance to the garden, and for the entire evening afterward, his gaze never left her.
At first she found it strange; then she glared back at him in irritation. But Xu Shenming’s skin was as thick as a city wall — the harder she glared, the broader the smile that spread across his face — until at last he used the excuse of talking with a few younger sisters to brazenly seat himself right beside her.
She had fled in fright and never dared return to the Anlu Duke’s estate. Yet whenever she went out afterward, she would invariably run into this man on the street as if by coincidence. She’d go to a bookshop to buy books, and he’d follow to buy brushes, ink, and paper; she’d go to a restaurant to eat, and he’d be drinking in the private room next door. Even when she went to a cosmetics shop to buy rouge and powder, he would swagger in to purchase things, and by the time she went to settle her bill, she would discover he had already paid for everything she’d chosen.
She was both mortified and furious, and simply refused to buy anything at all, whereupon he restrained himself considerably and no longer dared make decisions for her without asking.
Not long afterward, he was promoted to deputy commander of the Imperial Guard, and his official duties became much busier, yet whenever he had a free moment he would still come and wait outside the Pei estate for her.
During the Lantern Festival, she and several female cousins from the household went out to view the lanterns, and she was separated from them in the crowd. While she was anxiously searching everywhere for the others, this man appeared with a grin on his face. That night, he spoke to her a whole basket’s worth of shameless words — said he had liked her from the very first time he saw her, that the more he came to know her the more he liked her, that he couldn’t forget her even in his dreams, and that he begged her to agree to marry him. In the end he also gave her a set of rare surviving volumes from a previous dynasty that she had long been searching for.
Afterward their opportunities to meet were extremely few, yet he always found ways to seek out the things she loved in order to delight her. But just when she had gradually begun to accept him, he suddenly changed as if into a different person entirely, and wouldn’t even spare her a glance.
She bit her lower lip and said bitterly: “Ah Yao, tell me — what exactly does he take me for…?”
Qin Yao listened to the whole story from beginning to end, then rather than jumping to respond, she carefully recalled in her mind the look in Xu Shenming’s eyes when he had gazed at Pei Min outside the academy gates that day, and let out a soft laugh. “Don’t wrong him — he was under the jade corpse’s soul-snatching influence before, and his temperament inevitably became strange as a result. Even your brother seemed to become a different person, didn’t he? Now that he has recovered his wits, just you wait and see. Whatever a person truly thinks in his heart, he may be able to deceive others, but he cannot deceive himself. I’d wager that within a few days he’ll most likely come looking for you to offer an explanation.”
“I couldn’t care less,” Pei Min said with a huff. “Never mind that he might well have forgotten me entirely — even if he came to pester me again, I would not give him the time of day.”
In recent days, how many times had she secretly wiped her tears under the covers because of Xu Shenming — only she herself knew.
Qin Yao laughed inwardly. Pei Min’s temperament really was rather contrary. She clearly cared about Xu Shenming to the uttermost degree, yet insisted on putting on a show of indifference.
She still wanted to beat the drum on Xu Shenming’s behalf, but Pei Min had no wish to continue the subject, and turned to look at Qin Yao. “I had no idea you were actually a Daoist from Qingyun Abbey, and so capable at that — able to assist the Daoist master in subduing demons and vanquishing evil spirits. Did you enter religious life from childhood, or did you take the Daoist master as your master only when you were older?”
Qin Yao smiled and said: “When I was born my health was poor and I nearly didn’t survive; it was only after taking a master that my health improved. My master cast my eight characters and said my birth time was inauspicious — that I had essentially stolen my life from the King of Hell’s hands, and that this life of mine was fated to be full of calamities and hardships. It is only because these years of helping to eliminate malevolent spirits have allowed me to accumulate virtue that my life has been extended.”
Pei Min was silent for a moment, then nodded with a sigh. “No wonder your Father and Mother were willing to let you endure such hardship. It was for that reason after all. Having suppressed such a great monster as the jade corpse this time, surely you’ve accumulated enough virtue to last until you’re eighty? There won’t be any more calamities in the future, will there?”
Qin Yao laughed out loud. “That’s not how the calculation works. My master says that over these years I have dispelled a great deal of the karmic hindrances in my fate, so once I reach the coming-of-age ceremony there should be no further serious troubles, at which point whether I remain a Daoist will be entirely my own choice. Still, I can’t bear to leave my master and senior disciple brother, so I’ll most likely continue accompanying them to drive out demons.”
Pei Min was taken aback. “Even after marriage you’ll go along to drive out demons? Surely the Young Lord of Prince Lan’s household wouldn’t agree to that.”
Qin Yao’s face suddenly reddened and she glared at her. “I was speaking seriously with you, and you had to go and be provoking. Can we even continue this conversation?”
Pei Min quickly broke into a grin and apologized profusely, then changed the subject. “I’ve heard that Daoist Master Qing Xuzi has extremely profound cultivation, and after studying under him all these years you must have learned a great many arts. Good Ah Yao, do a little charm technique for me so I can broaden my horizons. Oh, I just remembered — I once read in a book about a wall-passing technique where you draw a circle on a wall and a person can pass right through it. Ah Yao, do you know that technique?”
Qin Yao said in amusement: “I don’t. What I’ve learned over the years is entirely focused on dealing with ghosts and demons, with talisman arts as the main method. I know only the most rudimentary things about elixir refinement.”
“Then show me a talisman technique,” Pei Min said, her curiosity thoroughly aroused. Seeing that Qin Yao was reluctant to agree, she kept shaking her arm. “Good Ah Yao, please, I beg you — just show me one.”
Qin Yao, worn down by her pestering, relented. “Just this once, and not to be repeated.”
Pei Min immediately nodded vigorously.
Qin Yao reached into her robe and fished out several talismans, intending to conjure a firefly or something of that sort. But the goat-horn lamp by the bedside was too dim, and by the time she had quietly finished reciting the incantation, she realized that what she had pinched between her fingertips was actually a yin-probing talisman used to detect the resentful energy in the surrounding area.
“Oh no, I picked up the wrong talisman.”
She quickly moved to put the talisman paper back into her robe and take out a different one, but the moment her fingers shifted, the yin-probing talisman let out a soft hiss and ignited at her fingertips.
Pei Min had no idea what was happening and thought this was the charm technique Qin Yao was performing, and clapped her hands in delight. “How impressive — how did you conjure that fire?”
She leaned in curiously to look at her fingers. “Won’t your fingertips be burned?”
Qin Yao’s expression had become extremely uncomfortable. Not wanting Pei Min to notice anything amiss, she forced a smile. “How could it not hurt? But isn’t this for your charm technique? Alright, stop bothering me — it’s getting late and we have to rise early tomorrow; let’s sleep now.”
Pei Min remembered that over these past few days Qin Yao had likely not been able to rest properly because of dealing with the demon, and feeling a pang of sympathy, she did not pester her further, tucked in the quilt, and closed her eyes without speaking.
Qin Yao waited until Pei Min had fallen completely into a deep slumber before quietly slipping out of bed.
Cai Ping, who slept on the couch by the window, had always been a light sleeper; hearing the movement, she rubbed her eyes with a slightly dazed look. “Is the young lady thirsty?”
Qin Yao came close and lowered her voice. “It’s nothing. I’m just going outside to take a look.”
With that she climbed up to the window from the couch, first turning to affix a talisman to the window sill to prevent evil things from entering the room, then leaped down from the window and headed off into the garden.
Since autumn had arrived, all the summer heat had receded, and the night wind carried a cool dampness as it brushed against the skin.
She had not brought her compass and didn’t dare make any sound that might attract others’ attention, so she quietly used the yin-probing talismans one by one to test for the source of the resentful energy.
When she reached the eastern corner wall of the back garden and had just drawn a yin-probing talisman from her robe, it ignited at her fingertip before she could even begin the incantation — a clear sign that she had arrived at the most concentrated gathering of resentful energy.
Her footsteps halted abruptly. She jerked her head up to look ahead, and saw a dark shadow moving back and forth beneath a pear tree, murmuring to itself, as if searching for something.
Qin Yao’s expression turned cold. What is this thing doing in the academy?
She held the talisman ready in her hand and called out in a low voice: “Hey — what are you looking for?”
The figure suddenly turned around. Seeing Qin Yao, it strode out from beneath the tree with heavy steps, saying in a mournful, wretched voice: “I’m looking for my wife. She is very beautiful; her name is Li Niang. Have you seen her?”
Only when it drew close did Qin Yao discover that this person appeared to be around thirty years of age, tall and powerfully built, with a face that was actually quite handsome in its proportions — except that he only had half a head. From the crown of the skull upward, everything that ought to have been there was nowhere to be found.
Qin Yao was astonished beyond measure. Human skull bones are incredibly hard — what sort of implement could be capable of shearing away the top of a head so cleanly and evenly?