Chapter 35: Evil Spirits (2)

Le Wuya rested his head on a pillow of silver banknotes, playing the miser.

Come midnight, he still couldn't fall asleep.

Let's be honest, who doesn't love money?

Building roads and bridges was indeed part of Le Wuya's plans, and using this money would give him more leeway to serve the people.

But actually accepting this money felt somehow off.

He couldn't make sense of it, so he fell back on the mindset from his past life: What exactly does the Sixth Prince want from me?

When he was still Le Wuya (in his past life), he had much more to offer the Sixth Prince.

Le Wuya still remembered the Emperor's drunken jest: "You Que, you're so young yet so good at judging people. If you take a liking to any of my sons, I'll make him Crown Prince, how about that?"

Now, as just the magistrate of Nanting, what could he offer?

Le Wuya hugged the silver notes to his chest, stroking them like a beloved pet for a while longer, but still couldn't come up with an answer.

Or maybe he should return them?

But with this several thousand taels in silver, any road could be built.

He wasn't the kind of official who'd rather starve with the common people just to maintain a spotless reputation.

With money right in front of him, would you refuse it just to avoid suspicion? That would be foolish.

But to accept it blindly and without thinking also seemed pretty foolish.

In the end, Le Wuya felt he looked like a fool whether he took the money or not.

Damn kid!

Annoyed and embarrassed, he turned over and fell asleep clutching the silver notes.

What you hate by day, you dream of at night.

Le Wuya dreamed that one day, after finishing his work outside the capital, he hastened back to the capital that very night.

On the road, he galloped against the wind, anxious to get back, but once he entered the city, his heart settled. He dismounted and took the reins, strolling slowly through streets bright with lanterns.

The capital was unusually lively at night, with ornate carriages rumbling by and endless sounds of music and song wafting through the air.

In this heady haze of a spring night, he remained sober, walking through the liveliness like an outsider.

"...Teacher?"

Le Wuya turned around and saw Xiang Zhijie at seventeen.

He was leading a horse, dressed in blue robes with a headband—the picture of a fine young man.

They faced each other in the biting spring chill.

Having traveled for two days straight, Le Wuya was a bit slow. He stared at him for a moment, as if seeing the younger self who knew neither cold nor heat.

He blurted, "Aren't you cold?"

As soon as the words left his mouth, he realized his lapse in manners: "This humble official greets the Sixth Prince."

Xiang Zhijie, before Le Wuya could finish his bow, reached out and lifted his arm to stop him, then withdrew his hand: "Teacher, no need for formality."

He was different from Xiaoqi. If Xiang Zhi said "no need for ceremony," you could bet he was being sarcastic.

But with Xiaoliu, when he said it, he meant it.

Le Wuya put on his teacherly tone: "Went to the outskirts to exercise the horse?"

Xiang Zhijie: "Went stargazing."

"Forgot, you've loved that since you were a child." Le Wuya patted his own forehead and said, "Teacher is getting old, my memory hasn't been so good lately."

Xiang Zhijie: "Teacher, you are still very young."

Seeing that his childhood habit of speaking in curt two-word sentences had improved, Le Wuya felt gratified and patted his shoulder.

Xiang Zhijie leading his horse silently fell into step behind Le Wuya.

After walking a bit, Le Wuya realized he had the honor of being escorted by a prince: "Why aren't you returning to the palace?"

Xiang Zhijie: "Let me see you home first."

Le Wuya knew that this student of his was a man of few words, and since childhood had the demeanor of each word as good as gold. Refusal was useless; he just had to accept it.

He muttered under his breath, "Why do you like stargazing? What's so interesting about stars?"

Xiang Zhijie: "Looking at them calms my heart."

Le Wuya: "You're calm enough already. Any calmer, and you'll end up shaving your head and becoming a monk."

Xiang Zhijie said something startling: "I've thought about it before."

Le Wuya looked up in surprise.

Throughout history, there had never been a shortage of Buddhist princes, but if a prince actually went through with shaving his head and becoming a monk, that would be quite the spectacle.

Just thinking about the Emperor's expression made him want to laugh.

He smiled: "No way? You're still so young, you've barely seen the world, and already you want to renounce it?"

Xiang Zhijie said, "Because my mother said temples can clear the mind and ward off evil spirits."

Imperial Consort Zhuang?

Le Wuya was puzzled: "What evil spirits could you possibly have to drive away?"

Could it be that Imperial Consort Zhuang, addled by incense fumes, thought his stuttering was caused by some unclean spirit possessing him?

Imperial Consort Zhuang was someone deep within the palace walls.

Though he'd never met her in person, her superstitious and eccentric behavior was well-known.

He vaguely remembered that Imperial Consort Zhuang was born into a military family, yet she was obsessed with burning incense and praying for blessings, with a reclusive and cold temperament—as peculiar as a lychee tree sprouting a watermelon.

Le Wuya: "Then she should have urged you to study Taoism instead."

"She said it can't be held down."

"Even the Three Pure Ones can't hold it down?"

"No, they can't."

Le Wuya felt a little sorry for him, reached out and patted Xiang Zhijie's head. "Your teacher can't chant sutras either, but luckily I'm already a major evil spirit. I should be able to scare off that little evil spirit on you..."

After being touched a couple of times, his mouth was about to curl into a smile, but when Le Wuya's hand slid down and touched his skin, he furrowed his brow and caught that freezing cold hand in his palm. "...Teacher."

Le Wuya muttered to himself, "You don't believe I'm an evil spirit? See, I'm a fox that turned into a human."

He spun around in place, puzzled. "Where's my tail?"

Xiang Zhijie placed his hand on Le Wuya's forehead, and the scorching heat made him pull his hand back right away.

Then, without a word, he lifted Le Wuya around the waist and set him sideways across the horse.

Le Wuya blinked, confused.

Xiang Zhijie said with a straight face, "I've taken your tail, Teacher. You'll get it back only after you go home, see a doctor, and take your medicine."

Le Wuya hugged the horse's neck and said lazily, "Am I sick again?" No wonder I'm so sentimental.

Xiang Zhijie didn't answer, leading the two horses and quickening his pace.

Le Wuya had no strength in his waist and arms, and was about to slide off the horse.

Xiang Zhijie quickly steadied his waist. After a moment's thought, he pulled off his headband, tied it around Le Wuya's hands and made a loop so he could hold the horse's neck more steadily.

Xiang Zhijie was naturally warm-bodied, and the slightly warm headband against Le Wuya's cold wrist felt kind of nice, so he let Xiang Zhijie do whatever he wanted.

But as he was tying it, Xiang Zhijie glanced at Le Wuya's palm and froze.

Le Wuya then noticed that the skin on his palm had been chafed by the reins, exposing two strips of raw pink flesh. It looked pretty bad.

He hadn't traveled day and night in a long time—he'd gotten soft, and his hands had too.

But Xiang Zhijie was tactful and asked no further questions. He got Le Wuya roughly settled and continued leading the horse forward.

Le Wuya rested his cheek against the coarse horse's mane.

Thinking back to the days when he used to ride freely, his mind started to wander.

"Speaking of which, the stars in the capital suck," he said. "...Back then, Teacher saw amazing stars in the army."

Xiang Zhijie: "Then tell me where, Teacher, and I'll take you there."

"Too far," Le Wuya said, half asleep. "Can't go back."

"Then let's watch the stars in the capital. I know a great spot."

Le Wuya smiled with his eyes closed. "You're messing with me. The capital has three thousand lanterns, the stars are dull and hazy—what's there to see?"

"There is," Xiang Zhijie said, his voice firm. "There's one very good star. I always go to see it. It's my star. All mine."

Le Wuya's heart stirred and he forced his eyes open.

He saw Xiang Zhijie looking up at the sky.

The roadside lanterns glowed like rosy clouds, casting a glow like red jade on his cheeks.

Le Wuya saw how seriously he was looking, as if there were truly a brilliant star, and wanted to look as well.

But his eyesight had been getting worse lately, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't see it.

He closed his eyes, wanting to rest a bit before trying again.

Yet when he opened them, what he saw wasn't the capital—it was Nanting in the early dawn, with the night just fading away.

Le Wuya sat up and smacked his lips.

Groggily, he untied his money pouch and counted again.

After sleeping on a few thousand taels of silver notes all night, Le Wuya had finally resolved to get some return gifts to thank the prince for his kindness.

When it came to giving gifts, Deputy Magistrate Sun was even more eager than him.

After going back last night, Sun stayed up all night writing a long gift list, and had arrived at the government office early to wait for Le Wuya to get up.

"The Sixth Prince has been so generous—we have to give back even more, double it. If this task goes well, I can bask in the magistrate's glory and make a name for myself with the Sixth Prince!"

After Sun's repeated urgings, Le Wuya finally rose.

Deputy Magistrate Sun said eagerly, "Magistrate, I have personally seen Lord Jiang to the inn. He said he would stay here for two days. We should get the gifts ready during these two days, don't you think?"

Le Wuya, still dazed from a night of chaotic dreams, hummed absentmindedly.

Deputy Magistrate Sun looked at him as if he were a treasure that could bring him meteoric rise, his eyes full of fondness. "Magistrate, have you decided?"

"Yes," Le Wuya said, rubbing his eyes. "Is there a particularly efficacious Daoist temple nearby?"

A Daoist temple?

Deputy Magistrate Sun had been about to pull out the gift list from his bosom to show off his competence, but he paused in surprise. Then, with a quick turn of thought, he understood.

Yes, Lord Jiang had arrived alone. Returning with a conspicuous load of gifts would be inconvenient and too flashy.

If the Sixth Prince was a follower of Daoism, wouldn't catering to his interests be even better?

A seemingly ordinary string of red sandalwood prayer beads could be worth a thousand pieces of gold.

Deputy Magistrate Sun racked his brains. "There used to be a Cool Valley near Yizhou, but it's been quiet in recent years. As for near Nanting, there's a Mount Tai Empress Temple in the neighboring county, dedicated to Bixia Yuanjun. It's very popular, and many people say it's efficacious."

Le Wuya: "Ah, then I'll fast and bathe, and go to fetch some incense."

Deputy Magistrate Sun looked at him expectantly.

But Le Wuya said nothing more, turned around, and actually went to bathe.

Deputy Magistrate Sun had to take the liberty of grabbing Le Wuya's sleeve. "...Magistrate?"

Seeing Le Wuya's bewildered expression, Deputy Magistrate Sun discreetly wiped the sweat from his palm and asked uncertainly, "Magistrate, you only want incense?"

Le Wuya: "Ah, what else? Should I move the statue of Bixia Yuanjun to the capital?"

"...No... You're just sending incense? How much can incense be worth?"

Deputy Magistrate Sun thought his magistrate was a shrewd, worldly guy, so why was he being muddle-headed over this major matter of gift-giving?

Le Wuya said indignantly, "What is money? What matters is the thought."

Deputy Magistrate Sun didn't know whether to laugh or cry: "You..."

Le Wuya thought for a moment and corrected himself: "Right, your thoughtfulness really isn't worth much. My thoughtfulness? That's worth a fortune."

Deputy Magistrate Sun: "..."

While Deputy Magistrate Sun stood frozen, stunned by his words, Le Wuya seized the chance to slip away.

After all, it wasn't someone else; it was Xiaoliu.

Xiaoliu's gift of silver had indeed taken Le Wuya by surprise.

He really seemed different from the good student Le Wuya remembered.

But if he had truly turned bad and wanted to use this to solicit bribes from officials, there would be no telling how many high-ranking court officials and regional governors would eagerly offer him tens of thousands of silver taels.

Nanting County was but a tiny county; if they were to follow the official game of give-and-take and formally return a doubled gift, they would surely empty the county treasury.

Xiaoliu wouldn't do such an unreliable, lousy thing.

He said he would build roads for Nanting, and he meant it.

Since he was sincere, of course Le Wuya had to respond with absolute sincerity.

Le Wuya, rarely devout, fasted for a day, bathed and burned incense, then walked to the Goddess Temple.

After kneeling and praying, Le Wuya obtained a bundle of Shu incense from the temple keeper, reverently sealed it in a sandalwood box, and delivered it to Jiang He.

Until Jiang He departed, Deputy Magistrate Sun was still full of hope.

He guessed that the magistrate was being wary of him and didn't want to reveal exactly what he was giving, which was reasonable.

Surely he didn't just send a bundle of incense.

Haha.

...

The courtyard of Qingxi Palace had its main gate tightly shut.

The scent of sandalwood mixed with agarwood lingered perpetually; there were no flowers in the courtyard, only dense groves of green pines and fir trees, the whole yard a lush green.

Xiang Zhijie knelt in the courtyard, the most upright green pine of all.

His expression was calm and composed, without any hint of grievance or resentment at being punished.

The maid A Ming, newly promoted to be a palace attendant in Qingxi Palace, carried a wooden tray and walked shakily up to Xiang Zhijie.

She didn't understand what had happened at all.

Today, the Sixth Prince entered the palace; it was supposed to be a joyful event.

Following the Imperial Consort's orders, she had gone to the Food Bureau to fetch a box of pastries that the Sixth Prince liked. As soon as she returned, she saw the Sixth Prince kneeling in the courtyard, and she herself had been given a bizarre task.

"He's been possessed by evil spirits again," Imperial Consort Zhuang said coldly. "Take a willow branch, dip it in consecrated water, and give him a good thrashing."

A Ming knew the Imperial Consort's temperament and dared not ask more. She had to pick a tender willow branch and brought it, along with the "consecrated water," to Xiang Zhijie.

The Sixth Prince had always been good-natured. Seeing her tremble so much she almost dropped the bottle of consecrated water, he instead comforted her: "Don't be afraid. This is a mother punishing her son. You are acting on behalf of the mother's role; it's not overstepping."

A Ming was about to cry.

What kind of situation is this?

But she was the Imperial Consort's maid; she ate from Qingxi Palace's bowl, so she couldn't defy her mistress.

A Ming had to steel her heart, whispered "Your Highness, forgive your servant's mortal offense," and then dipped the willow branch in consecrated water, carefully flicking it on the Sixth Prince's shoulders.

It was more like dusting him off than exorcising evil.

Seeing how ineffective A Ming was, soon Dan Qiong, the senior palace maid who served in the hall, came out.

Dan Qiong approached and snatched the willow branch from her: "Has Qingxi Palace shortchanged you in food and clothing? With such weak strength, how can you drive away evil and cleanse filth?"

She motioned A Ming aside: "Leave this to me."

A Ming knew Dan Qiong was trying to rescue her. Extremely grateful, she apologized and then, lifting her skirt, fled without looking back all the way to the corridor.

She had only taken a few steps when she heard the swish of a willow branch, and a few drops of consecrated water even flew onto the back of her neck.

How much force must it take to make such a sound on someone's body?

But she didn't dare turn her head, only stealing a glance after she rounded the stone screen.

The Sixth Prince was still kneeling upright, entirely composed, showing no sign of being humiliated before servants.

A Ming hid in the inner chamber and only then noticed that everyone else was going about their business as usual.

In comparison, her own nervousness made her stand out.

She had to imitate the other older maids, putting on a detached air, and went to the small kitchen, washed her hands, and started to arrange the pastry box.

Not long after, Dan Qiong closed the door and came in. Her stern, tense expression finally relaxed, revealing a look of helplessness.

A Ming ran up to her: "Sister Dan Qiong..."

Dan Qiong sighed and comforted her: "Don't be nervous. The mother and son have always been like this. The Sixth Prince won't blame you."

A Ming murmured: "I'm useless."

Dan Qiong patted her shoulder: "It's fine. The first time I did the exorcism for the Sixth Prince, I was scared too."

Seeing that Dan Qiong was willing to comfort her, A Ming felt relieved.

A girl of fourteen or fifteen knew best how to act coquettish. She put her arm around Dan Qiong's: "Sister, the Imperial Consort is usually so calm. Why did she suddenly get so angry?"

"Do you really want to hear it?"

A Ming really wanted to know what had happened and racked her brains for an excuse: "If—if I know the reason, I'll know to avoid that topic and won't anger the Imperial Consort!"

Dan Qiong sighed deeply: "The Sixth Prince brought a gift today—an excellent bundle of Shu incense."

A Ming nodded.

She saw this scene just before she went to get the pastry box.

At that time, the Lady clearly had a faint smile on her face.

Why did she get angry later?

Dan Qiong replied, "Because the Sixth Prince said this was a gift from the Lady’s daughter-in-law."

A Ming was startled, then she laughed: "The Sixth Prince is getting married? That’s good news—so why is the Lady—"

Dan Qiong flicked her handkerchief and lightly tapped A Ming’s head: "What are you so happy about? … You’re young, you don’t understand."

Seeing A Ming still confused, Dan Qiong shook her head.

She had said enough.

As long as this silly girl didn’t go on in front of the Lady about how the Sixth Prince was old enough to marry.

…

The sun was blazing, and in the courtyard, Xiang Zhijie stared at his own palm.

On both cheeks were red marks from the willow branches, and his hair was wet with the talisman water.

He looked utterly wretched, but Dan Qiong knew what she was doing—it only itched slightly now, without real pain.

His palm was completely empty, with only the shadows of bamboo swaying.

Xiang Zhijie gave a soft laugh.

Back then, he had secretly hidden the master’s tail and hadn’t returned it yet. With a great evil accompanying him, why should he fear evil spirits?