When she was six years old, Princess Li Yuanzhen got lost in the mountains behind the summer palace on Mount Mang.
The deep mountains at night were full of frightening sounds. The rustling in the bushes made her feel like something was about to leap out. She could faintly hear the howls of wild beasts. The wind whistling through the leaves sounded like human cries. The mountains were very dark, with tree branches and bushes shaped like monstrous claws. Many black shadows swayed in the wind, terrifying her.
Li Yuanzhen covered her mouth, stumbling through the forest. Her eyes fearfully scanned the surrounding darkness, not daring to cry out loud. She was extremely scared, softly calling for her mother and father, but there were only frightening shadows around her, with no familiar faces in sight.
The mountain path was uneven, and little Yuanzhen tripped over a protruding tree root, falling hard on the ground. The sharp pain in her knee made her whimper softly.
It was then that she saw him.
He was a handsome man dressed all in white, seeming to glow in the darkness. He stood behind a tree, hesitantly looking in her direction without approaching.
Little Yuanzhen had been walking alone in the mountains for so long that she was terrified. Finally seeing a person, she disregarded everything else, got up, and ran to hug the white-robed man, bursting into loud sobs.
“I want to go home! I want my mother and father!”
The man let her hug him for a while, looking somewhat at a loss. Later, seeing her cry until she slid down weakly, he finally reached out and picked her up.
The man carried her through the mountains. Soon, little Yuanzhen saw a tree in the forest that was truly eye-catching because it was covered in white flowers, as white as the man’s clothes. A beam of moonlight shone down, illuminating the white-flowered tree. Little Yuanzhen stared at it, momentarily forgetting to cry.
It wasn’t until the man tried to set her on a low branch that little Yuanzhen came to her senses. She refused to let go, clinging tightly to the man’s neck and burying her head in his chest, like a frightened, shivering puppy.
The man had no choice but to hold her as he sat on the branch himself, letting her sit on his lap.
He remained silent the whole time, very quiet, but his body was warm, making little Yuanzhen feel safe. As she slowly relaxed and began to try talking to the man, she discovered that he couldn’t speak. He would open his mouth but no sound came out. He could only pat her head and smile at her.
During the night, wild beasts from the mountains passed nearby, catching the scent of humans and lingering in the area. Little Yuanzhen saw their glowing green eyes in the darkness and bodies larger than normal beasts, nervously hugging the white-robed man tighter. She was afraid the beasts would suddenly pounce, but the white-robed man waved his sleeve, and a sudden wind arose in the mountains, quickly scaring the beasts away.
Throughout that night, the man held her constantly, gently stroking her forehead when she felt scared and uneasy.
Later, she fell asleep. When she woke up, the palace servants and soldiers had found her. Everyone was relieved that she was unharmed, but Li Yuanzhen only looked around for the man. He had disappeared, leaving only the white camellia tree she had been leaning against when she woke, still covered in white flowers, with delicate petals scattered all over her.
“I want to take this tree back to the palace and plant it!” declared the six-year-old princess, a small white camellia flower perched on her head.
Although she was a child, she already knew quite a bit. She thought that if she brought the tea tree back, she might be able to see her savior again. As she grew older, she began to wonder if the man might not have been human at all, but rather an immortal, a spirit, or perhaps a mountain ghost. Regardless of what he was, she always wanted to see him again.
Over the years, Li Yuanzhen took great care of the white mountain camellia. Every year she could see it covered in white flowers, and every night when the tea tree bloomed, she would linger beneath it. Sometimes, out of the corner of her eye, she thought she saw a white figure standing under the tree, very close to her, but when she looked again, she realized it was just her imagination. There was no one under the tree except herself.
This was the tenth year, and the white camellia was about to bloom again. It had just sprouted small buds, and Li Yuanzhen had been thinking yesterday that this year’s flowers seemed to be more numerous. But in just one night, the white camellia tree had withered and died.
Bringing Wu Zhen to the front of the princess’s palace, Li Yuanzhen stared at the blackened leaves of the tea tree, her eyes welling up with tears again as she gently stroked the trunk.
A row of trembling palace servants stood under the eaves in front of the hall, watching nervously, barely daring to breathe. The princess’s anger this morning had been terrifying, and the memory was still fresh in their minds. They didn’t dare risk angering their young mistress again.
Wu Zhen crossed her arms, inwardly clicking her tongue, her eyes fixed on a branch of the tea tree near her niece. A faint white-robed man was sitting on that branch, looking quite pitiful.
Li Yuanzhen gazed sadly at the tea tree branches, while the man beside her focused intently on Li Yuanzhen.
Wu Zhen suddenly exhaled, and a wisp of mist floated into the ethereal form of the white-robed man. Only then did he notice her, his face showing surprise as he nodded to her with difficulty.
Wu Zhen observed the man for a while. She had visited the princess’s palace several times before and had only sensed some spiritual energy from the tea tree, never noticing this man’s presence. This was the first time she had seen him. He must have been severely injured and unable to return to the white camellia tree he inhabited, which was why she could see him now.
This man, to be precise, was a parasitic spirit. Unlike ghosts or demons, parasitic spirits are born from and attached to certain objects. Usually, these objects that can give birth to parasitic spirits are highly spiritual items, such as books, paintings, brushes, and the like. Wu Zhen had even seen parasitic spirits of combs, mirrors, and even bowls before, but this was the first time she had encountered one born from a plant.
To develop spirituality and take human form required great fortune, but judging from his appearance, he had suffered too much damage and lost too much vital energy to persist for long. The withering of the white camellia tree was due to this reason.
The form of a parasitic spirit is similar to that of a demon, but they are much more fragile. Before developing a physical body, parasitic spirits cannot frequently leave their host object. The longer they appear in corporeal form, the more energy they lose.
This parasitic spirit was nearing the end of his existence.
He probably knew this himself, which was why he still sat there at this moment, earnestly watching Li Yuanzhen. He reached out to touch Li Yuanzhen’s forehead, but she couldn’t feel or see him. She remained unaware, merely brushing past the man’s hand as she turned anxiously and hopefully to Wu Zhen, “Aunt, do you have any ideas? You know many people, perhaps you could help me find an expert skilled in treating plants?”
Wu Zhen guessed that what her little niece truly cared about was probably not the white camellia tree, but this parasitic spirit.
Seeing Wu Zhen remain silent, Li Yuanzhen’s expression gradually dimmed. Suddenly, Wu Zhen stepped forward and flicked her forehead, sighing with compromise and helplessness, “Alright, who can say no to my precious niece? I’ll find a way to save this tree for you by tomorrow.”
Li Yuanzhen was stunned, then overjoyed. She jumped up, hugging Wu Zhen’s arm and asking eagerly, “Really? Aunt, you have a way to save it?”
Wu Zhen smiled and rubbed her head, “Of course. For now, put your mind at ease and get a good night’s sleep. Look at your eyes, have someone apply a compress, and don’t ruin them with crying. By tomorrow, I’ll surely make you happy.”
Wu Zhen always kept her word. When she spoke, her tone was confident, making anyone inclined to believe her. Li Yuanzhen immediately felt reassured.
“Alright, I’ll wait for you tomorrow, Aunt!”
After leaving the palace, Wu Zhen headed straight for the East Market. After searching for a while, she found the person she was looking for under a tree. The person wore coarse clothes and looked as old and gnarled as a tree root. In front of him was a small table with a flag hanging from it, a tattered cloth with four characters written on it: “Half-Immortal Fortune Teller.”
“Charlatan,” Wu Zhen said, tossing down a piece of gold. “I’ve run into a problem and want to ask how to solve it.”
This charlatan—one of the two deputies of the Cat Lord of the Demon Market—begged in the Demon Market at night and told fortunes in the East Market during the day. Today he had taken on the appearance of an old man and had just started a business, earning ten coins from his first customer.
He glanced at the heavy piece of gold on the table and said, “I only tell fortunes, I don’t solve other problems.”
Wu Zhen smiled slightly, “You think I won’t dare to hit you in public?”
The charlatan thought to himself: If I had known, I wouldn’t have disguised myself as an old man today. I should have become a handsome young man instead. Then perhaps the Cat Lord might be a little gentler when hitting me.
“Ahem,” the charlatan coughed, quietly pocketing the gold, and said good-naturedly, “Go ahead and ask, Cat Lord.”
Wu Zhen: “A parasitic spirit is about to dissipate. Do you have any way to save it?”
Charlatan: “A parasitic spirit? That’s difficult to save.”
Wu Zhen: “If it weren’t difficult, I wouldn’t need to come to you, Wordless Book. You’re supposed to be the legendary Book of Heaven. Is there anything in this world you don’t know?” Because she was asking for help, Wu Zhen rarely spoke such kind words, but even as she praised him, her eyes were dark and intense, very intimidating. The charlatan felt that if he couldn’t solve the Cat Lord’s problem, he might be in trouble.
Charlatan: “…Wait, let me check. There seems to be a way to save it.” He broke out in a cold sweat from the praise and took out his wordless Book of Heaven.
—
Mei Si had been sitting in his room for a whole day. He hadn’t picked up his brush to paint again, just staring woodenly at the painting spread out on the table. After the initial shock and disbelief, he was now filled with determination. He had the servants light many lamps and sat solemnly in front of the painting, a sword placed before him, motionless as he watched the painting.
This morning, he discovered that the painting he had done yesterday had changed. Mei Si clearly remembered that the demons he had painted the day before were vivid and imposing, riding winds and clouds. However, when he looked again in the morning, the demons in the painting all looked dejected, as if they had lost a fight with someone. He even noticed that one of the demons was missing a hand!
This was a painting! A painting he had drawn with his own hands! How could a demon he painted yesterday lose a hand today? Such a dramatic change meant it was practically a different painting, yet the brush strokes and features were all familiar to him—it was his work.
Mei Si could no longer believe he had simply misremembered. He had already felt something was wrong when the dozens of demons he had previously painted mysteriously disappeared. Now, with this new change, Mei Si had to suspect that there was something inexplicable at work.
For instance, the possibility that ghosts were real.
Mei Si enjoyed painting ghosts and monsters. He had always believed in the existence of non-human entities, but this was the first time in his life that he had personally experienced something supernatural. He wasn’t as excited as he had imagined he would be; instead, he was filled with worry. If such things existed and appeared around him, could they harm his family and friends?
Mei Si didn’t dare share his suspicions with anyone, so he decided to stay awake tonight, sitting here to watch over the painting all night. If there were evil spirits, he would use his sword to destroy the painting. Even if real demons could emerge from the painting he had created, he was determined to deal with them!