After the changes in heaven and earth, the focus of the soul-returning art had shifted to communicating with the netherworld, making it not so much a “soul-summoning art” but rather a “soul-borrowing art.” What she had written on the golden paper was precisely this type of prayer. As a sovereign of a nation, holding the highest human position, borrowing a soul would be somewhat easier for her.

Not every official present was brave-hearted; some quietly swallowed in apprehension.

As the golden paper was nearly burned through, Feng Miaojun tossed it into the spring eye.

Strange as it was, before the paper even touched the water’s surface, the spring eye formed a vortex, like a vertical funnel.

The golden paper with its blue-green fire fell in, and even with Feng Miaojun’s keen eyesight, she could not discern where it ended.

Water is inherently yin, let alone this Yin Spring. The golden paper’s destination was no longer in the human realm.

After it disappeared, the vortex in the Yin Spring remained.

Feng Miaojun stood with her hands at her sides, clearly waiting quietly.

Given the timing and location, the Queen’s every move carried an invisible authority. Even Fu Lingchuan remained silent, while others were even more hushed, like cicadas in winter.

After about half a quarter hour, there was movement in the spring:

A blurry white shadow emerged from within, drifting and wavering, as if it might fall apart at any moment. Too many people stood around the Yin Spring, and being a newly deceased ghost, it naturally feared the vigorous human energy, thus instinctively attempting to flee as soon as it appeared.

However, just as it began to move, Feng Miaojun pointed at the coffin: “Time is precious, why not enter?”

Her voice was low and melodious, no different from her usual gentle tone, but it felt particularly uncomfortable to human ears, as if brain nerves were being pulled by an external force.

Yet to the soul, this voice was like a guiding beacon. The wisp of white shadow circled the coffin twice, as if observing or weighing its options, before plunging headfirst into it.

“Open it.”

At Feng Miaojun’s command, palace servants went to remove the coffin lid.

The officials present had heard about Yu Linlang’s assassination attempt but had not seen the victim from the case. Now, stretching their necks, they saw a youth with a white, purplish face lying inside, extending both hands straight ahead in a flailing motion, yet unlike Old Woman Wang from years ago, he could not leap out vertically.

This sight truly made one’s scalp tingle, and oddly enough, Feng Miaojun said: “He was cut in half at the waist; his spine is broken, so he can’t stand up. Go help him.” She casually pointed to two guards nearby.

The two guards, equally pallid, had no choice but to follow the royal command. They stiffened their resolve, forcibly lifted the corpse from the coffin, and positioned it facing the suspect, Shi Zhangqing.

Feng Miaojun again used that strange voice: “Look carefully, is this the person who killed you?”

A newly arrived soul from the underworld, with consciousness still hazy, would not lie.

Everyone couldn’t help but hold their breath.

The corpse seemed to be carefully discerning, and then, before everyone’s eyes, it nodded!

The victim of Yu Linlang’s assassination attempt, who was also the last eyewitness, likewise identified Shi Zhangqing as the culprit!

The officials fell silent, looking at Shi Zhangqing, then at Fu Lingchuan, their expressions peculiar.

This time, the evidence was surely ironclad, wasn’t it?

Two living persons and one corpse all identified Shi Zhangqing as the killer. How could Fu Lingchuan still overturn the case for him?

Wang Qian suddenly stepped out from behind Fu Lingchuan, first bowing to Feng Miaojun before saying: “Your Majesty, forgive me, but there is one thing I do not understand.”

Feng Miaojun looked at him with meaningful eyes: “Speak.”

“How do we know that the lonely soul summoned is the victim himself?”

Feng Miaojun smiled slightly: “Wang Qian, you are truly bold.”

She called him directly by name, and Wang Qian was slightly startled. He rarely entered the palace and hadn’t expected the Queen to recognize him at a glance. It seemed her knowledge of those around Fu Lingchuan was not completely lacking. By speaking thus, he was questioning whether Feng Miaojun had secretly substituted someone else, perhaps finding some ghost to impersonate the victim’s soul to identify Shi Zhangqing.

This thought was truly offensive to the sovereign, yet it was a reasonable deduction. After all, everyone had just witnessed her methods.

“This humble one deserves death. Please calm your anger, Your Majesty, but since the matter is significant, still…”

Before he could finish, Feng Miaojun interrupted: “Very well, then let us verify. You indeed deserve death, and regardless of the outcome, I shall have your right arm!” With that, she took out three thin incense sticks from her storage ring and instructed Chen Dachang to light them.

At this time, chilly winds swirled in the courtyard, and others rubbed their arms despite wearing thick winter clothing, yet the white smoke from these lit incense sticks rose perfectly vertical, without the slightest waver.

Feng Miaojun then beckoned to the corpse: “Won’t you come out? Time is running short.”

The deceased showed no response, still lying with eyes tightly closed, motionless.

Either the soul had already dissipated, or it was unwilling to emerge.

This was its mortal dwelling, naturally making it feel attached, instinctively reluctant to leave.

Feng Miaojun sighed, suddenly stepped forward quickly, and pushed her palm against the deceased’s forehead!

A strange scene unfolded:

The corpse remained motionless, but her slender five fingers passed through the other’s skull, pushing out a white shadow.

This moment passed like a fleeting glimpse of a white colt; so quickly that few present could see clearly. Feng Miaojun had already withdrawn her hand back into her sleeve.

The deceased’s forehead remained intact, without a hole pierced through—she had only pushed out the soul occupying the body.

The white shadow drifted in the air a couple of times, its form tending to disperse. Feng Miaojun pointed to the tranquility incense: “Go on, there is a benefit for you.”

It immediately floated to the incense, twisting with the smoke, rapidly absorbing it.

The more it absorbed, the more substantial its form became, increasingly resembling a human shape.

The tranquility incense was prepared by her using an ancient secret technique obtained from the Smoke Sea Tower, a great nourishment for mortal souls, especially for newly deceased souls, helping them stabilize their form. This item was not difficult to refine, but few people nowadays could nurture souls, making it rare in the human world.

Feng Miaojun had refined an enhanced version, hoping to provide some compensation to this youth.

By the time the three incense sticks were nearly burned out, the white shadow finally revealed its true appearance—

A boy of fourteen or fifteen, with narrow eyes, a flat nose, and a square jaw.

Without Feng Miaojun needing to remind anyone, everyone could see that the soul’s appearance matched exactly that of the deceased standing to the side with eyes tightly closed!

This was a fact acknowledged by many cultivators: a soul’s appearance cannot be falsified!

“Any more questions?” Feng Miaojun turned her gaze toward Fu Lingchuan and Wang Qian.

Fu Lingchuan’s face remained impassive as water, but cold sweat broke out on Wang Qian’s forehead.

“Heh.” She laughed coldly, then waved her sleeve at the white shadow, “The matter here is concluded. Return to the underworld.”

Hearing this, the white shadow rose and plunged into the vortex of the spring eye.

Following this, the vortex slowly disappeared, and the Yin Spring returned to its usual calmness.

Feng Miaojun slowly turned her head, but her gaze fell on Wang Qian, her eyes showing rare killing intent: “Your turn now.” This man was Fu Lingchuan’s confidant, and she would certainly teach him a lesson.

Wang Qian knew there was no escape. He stepped back twice and drew his sword. With a flash of cold light, he severed his right arm!

With a thud, the severed arm fell to the ground, blood splattering.