Along the banks of the Qiong River, nestled some hundred li beyond the capital in Qiong River Town, the place drew a constant stream of visitors. For one thing, the location was convenient — not far from Wu Jing. For another, the town’s origins lay in the private villa of Princess Qiongyao of the former Liang Dynasty, a place of clear mountains and beautiful waters, with scenery of exquisite loveliness. Because the princess had adored pear blossoms, the land had been planted with many pear trees, and the Qiong River pears became famous for their crisp sweetness and abundant juice.

Over the course of two hundred years, the world had transformed entirely. The old villa had long since grown into the vast Qiong River Town. Beyond the pear trees, many peach trees and willows had been planted as well, particularly along both banks of the Qiong River, where willows trailed their branches in gentle cascades, forming deep shade — a destination praised by no small number of scholars and poets as a beloved place for leisure.

Worth noting was that Princess Qiongyao’s former villa had been converted into the Qionglin Garden, now under imperial ownership, expanded toward the water with refined elegance and quiet seclusion. This year’s Qionglin Banquet for the imperial examinations was to be held right here.

Lang Jiuchuan listened as Shen Qinghe and the others described the origins of Qiong River Town, and when they mentioned the Qionglin Banquet, she raised a brow.

What a coincidence.

Had that not been where Ning Zhe’s incident had occurred? Now there were apparently evil spirits and water demons causing trouble along the Qiong River. Could this be the same fragmented memory she had glimpsed in the remnant of his soul?

That thing — it devoured souls whole.

“From the end of the third month until now — in under a month — there have been drownings along the Qiong River with alarming frequency. Nearly fifty people have died to date. The local village chief has hired Daoists and spirit-mediums to investigate. They determined that a demon lurked beneath the water and attempted exorcisms, but not only was nothing achieved — they suffered a counter-strike and lost their lives. Only then was the situation deemed grave enough to be reported to our Surveillance Division.” Shen Qinghe spoke with a grave expression. “The Surveillance Division dispatched personnel as well, but they met the same fate — went in and never came back. We hadn’t planned to seek you out initially, but Gong Qi said it would be a good opportunity to invite you to perform the exorcism. Even if it cannot be accomplished, it would at least help dispel the rumors working against you.”

Lang Jiuchuan turned to Gong Qi. “Even you couldn’t determine what this thing is?”

Gong Qi replied, “Based on the villagers’ accounts, there are always the sounds of an infant wailing by the riverbank at night, and a dark shadow passing through the water. I investigated as well, but the thing is extremely cunning and has never revealed its true form. From the description, however, it sounds like the creature from legend known as the Water Imp.”

“If it were only a Water Imp, it should not be difficult to deal with.”

Gong Qi’s expression grew slightly grave. “The deaths have been too frequent and too numerous. I suspect the thing has grown powerful enough to develop a consciousness.”

A Water Imp alone was not particularly difficult to handle — but if it had developed a consciousness with human-like thinking, that was another matter entirely.

Lang Jiuchuan raised no objection. Once a creature gained human awareness and intelligence, it became cunning and unpredictable, and certainly harder to deal with. But it would surely not surpass a century-old corpse revenant in difficulty — unless there were additional complications she had yet to foresee.

As they spoke, they had already entered Qiong River Town. But the moment they stepped inside, they heard someone nearby saying that yet another person had died — a joyful occasion turned into a funeral, and the Pan Family had met with terrible misfortune. The group exchanged a glance and hurried toward the riverbank.

Upon arriving at the riverbank, they found a crowd gathered, pointing and murmuring. Dimly visible through the throng, someone was draped over a body, crying out in heartbroken anguish.

Shen Qinghe gave a look, and the officers who had accompanied them moved forward to disperse the crowd.

Lang Jiuchuan stepped closer. The body on the ground was a young woman dressed in bridal red, and those collapsed over her in wailing grief were a man and a woman — both likewise dressed in festive attire. The man appeared to be of similar age to the deceased; the woman was older, though whether she was the bride’s mother or someone else, it was unclear.

“The officials from the Surveillance Division have arrived — please make way,” the officers called out, pulling the man and woman away from the body. Other officers stationed in Qiong River Town, along with Daoist practitioners, came forward to explain what had occurred.

The deceased was the Pan Family bride — a young woman who should have been wed that very day. When the auspicious hour arrived, however, the bride was nowhere to be found. Only when someone reported seeing her jump into the river did the truth emerge.

“Was there no one accompanying the bride?” Shen Qinghe asked with a frown.

“There was. She was accompanied by her sister-in-law from her family — that woman there.” The officer pointed to the woman who had just been pulled away.

The woman, dressed in festive clothing, her face full and round, spoke through reddened eyes. “I was with her the whole time. I only stepped away for a moment to use the privy, and when I came back she was gone. Wuu, wuu — this Xier was raised by my own hands, from infancy. She may be my younger sister-in-law, but I treated her as my own flesh and blood. She was about to be married off — how could this happen… Heaven above, what sin has my Pan Family committed!”

An officer quietly mentioned that this Pan Elder Sister-in-law was a widow, her parents-in-law long since gone. She had raised this younger sister single-handedly, playing the role of both father and mother. Her husband had passed away seven or eight years ago, and she had two young sons still too small to help.

“Dressed in red bridal attire that conspicuous — and no one noticed her whereabouts?” Shen Qinghe asked once more.

“Someone did. An old man said he saw her walking with vacant, unseeing eyes toward the riverbank, and she jumped straight in. Before he could even call for help, she had vanished beneath the surface.”

Shen Qinghe sent someone to bring the old man in for questioning.

Lang Jiuchuan crouched down beside the body, examining the corpse. The young woman’s face was blue and purple, her eyes wide open — as though she had seen something terrifying and died in a state of horror. Her lips, stained with vermillion rouge, appeared strikingly red against her discolored skin, and the corners of her mouth were turned upward, as if pulled into a forced smile. The manner of her death was deeply unsettling.

Lang Jiuchuan lifted the waterlogged sleeve and found both hands grotesquely swollen. Beneath the red-lacquered nails, black, rotting river weeds were packed into the gaps — as if she had clawed desperately at something.

Without warning, Lang Jiuchuan’s hand snapped back. She retreated two steps in an instant, and a flash of lightning-fire crackled from her fingertip, striking the dead bride’s hands.

Sizzle.

The river weeds wedged under her fingernails had come to life. Like threadworms, they were wriggling, trying to work their way out from beneath the nails. Scorched by the lightning-fire, they immediately released a nauseating stench that spread through the air.

Urp—

Someone nearby retched.

Gong Qi’s expression shifted. “What kind of worm is that?”

“These are corpse worms — born from bodies left to rot at the bottom of a body of water for years. If refined into venom, they would produce an intensely Yin-tainted, malevolent poison.” Lang Jiuchuan said, “She must have clawed at the thing beneath the water at close range.”

So — a submerged, rotting corpse had developed consciousness and was now claiming lives one after another?

Lang Jiuchuan let out a quiet sound of surprise. She looked more carefully and noticed a faint black line barely visible at the center of Pan Xier’s brow. She asked Gong Qi, “The other bodies — have they been disposed of? Did they all have a black line like this?”

Gong Qi narrowed his eyes for a look, then shook his head. “The bodies are all at the mortuary.”

Lang Jiuchuan said nothing more. After a brief moment of quiet contemplation, she took out a sheet of yellow ritual paper, bit open her fingertip, and drew a complex string of talismanic characters on it in blood. With a flick of her wrist, the paper ignited without flame. The blue-grey smoke neither rose nor dispersed, but as if drawn by some invisible pull, streamed into each of the seven orifices of the corpse.

She dusted her hands off, her expression grave. She rose and looked once more at Pan Xier’s body, brows furrowed. “Her departed soul has been bound inside the corpse and cannot pass on to the next life. This is more troubling than I had thought. I fear the evil entity beneath the water is in the process of cultivating the Ten Thousand Souls Malevolence.”