Chapter 1: Touched by Devotion (1)

Cheng Mulan was jolted awake by a clamor of angry voices.

Her eyes remained closed. Her body felt as if it were floating on soft clouds, her mind hazy and distant. The noisy voices drifted in and out of her hearing—

“Gu Yanran! How dare you come here? How do you still have the face to show yourself?”

“Give me back my son’s life! He was in the prime of his years, skilled in both literature and martial arts, the most outstanding of all the young men in Prince Rui’s household. If not for you, he would still be alive and well right now… It’s all your fault! Not only did you cause Chengfeng’s death, now you’ve dragged my gentle daughter-in-law down with him as well… Give them back their lives! Give them back!”

“Wangfei, please calm yourself. This is the children’s spirit hall. If you keep crying and wailing like this, how will our daughter-in-law ever rest in peace beneath the Nine Springs?”

“Wangye, I resent it… My heart aches so…”

“Commander Gu, please leave. If not for the face of the Northern Garrison General, this prince would never have allowed you to set foot in this residence today.”

“Wangye, you have misunderstood Young Gu. The death of the heir that year was due to this old man’s momentary impatience and improper deployment of troops. It had nothing to do with Young Gu. You have all wronged him…”

“Enough! I do not wish to hear any more of it. Leave!”

“Ai, Young Gu, look at this scene… Perhaps we should go first…”

Young Gu… Commander Gu… Was it him?

Somehow, in her hazy state, Cheng Mulan found that this man’s name was the one she heard most clearly.

After a long while, she heard another voice rise—low, hoarse, and rough with strain.

“Wangye, Wangfei, in light of the long-standing ties between this humble one and the Dingguo Duke’s household, please allow me to offer a stick of incense before the young miss’s spirit tablet…”

Pa!

The words had barely left his mouth when a sharp slap rang out, followed by the piercing, furious rebuke of her mother-in-law, the Wangfei.

“She is not your young miss! She is the heir’s consort of this Prince Rui’s household! Nothing more than a low-born horse slave. Don’t think that just because you followed the Great General and earned a few meager merits on the frontier battlefields, you have the right to come swaggering into this residence and act as you please. Get out this instant—!”

A sudden thud rang out, as if someone had collapsed to the ground, followed by a flurry of panicked cries.

“Someone come quickly! The Wangfei has fainted—carry her back to her rooms at once!”

Amid the chaotic shouts, Cheng Mulan finally opened her eyes. The first thing that filled her vision was a vast expanse of white, then several swaying figures, and finally a coffin—one of finely carved purple sandalwood, a bridal dowry from her natal family, the Dingguo Duke’s mansion.

Cheng Mulan stared at the coffin for a long moment, stunned. Slowly her mind cleared, and she realized where she was: the spirit hall. Her spirit hall.

So… she was already dead.

Thinking carefully, she recalled that her health had been poor for the past two years. During the autumn-to-winter transition she had carelessly caught a chill, and afterward she had lingered on the sickbed.

Her last memory seemed to be of her most trusted personal maid, Amber, helping her drink a bowl of medicinal soup, then placing a piece of candy in her mouth. She had even smiled and said the sweetness reminded her of the candied haws she had once secretly bought on the street as a child—so sweet it filled her heart to the brim.

After that she remembered nothing, only a vague sense of bone-deep exhaustion. As she closed her eyes she seemed to see tears glittering in Amber’s eyes.

So that piece of candy, that lingering sweetness, had been her final memory!

Cheng Mulan stood blankly before her own coffin. She touched her icy cheek, then looked down at her nearly transparent hands. She wore only a pure white under-robe, her long ink-black hair cascading to her waist…

Since she had become a female ghost, why had she not seen the Black and White Impermanence? Shouldn’t some underworld envoy have come to escort her to the netherworld to await reincarnation?

While she was still lost in bewildered thought, she turned and nearly collided with a solid chest. Startled, she hastily stepped back and lifted her dark lashes.

What met her eyes was a man’s face—features as sharp as if carved by a blade, sword-like brows over deep-set eyes, a nose like a hanging gall, and elegant lips. At this moment, however, his complexion was somewhat pale.

He was dressed in military attire, travel-worn and dusty, as though he had just raced back from the battlefield. His usual cool, distant air, set against the martial robes, now carried an extra edge of iron and killing intent that made him difficult to look at directly.

Gu Yanran! It really was him!

Cheng Mulan sucked in a sharp breath. Even though a ghost had no need to breathe, a heavy, stifling pressure still settled in her chest.

So the name she had heard so clearly in her half-awake state had truly been his… Knowing full well that everyone in Prince Rui’s household hated him for dragging the Heir into disaster on the battlefield—causing him to fall into the enemy’s trap and die in the prime of life—how did he still have the face to come here and make a nuisance of himself?

Was it truly only to mourn her? Just to see her one last time in the spirit hall, was he willing to risk such great offense?

Cheng Mulan stared at the man before her in a daze. Beside him stood a rugged middle-aged man with a touch of frost at his temples, speaking in a low voice of persuasion.

“Young Gu, let’s go. Ai… we shouldn’t have come to offer condolences today. This isn’t reconciliation with Prince Rui’s household—it’s only deepening the hatred…” The middle-aged man’s face was full of bitter regret.

Cheng Mulan guessed this must be the Northern Garrison General Wu Ying. These past years it was largely thanks to him driving back the Tartars and defending the northern borders of Great Qi that the common people could live in peace.

She studied Wu Ying for a moment, then pressed a hand over the heart that would never beat again and, slowly, tentatively, looked back at Gu Yanran. One glance was enough to make her eyes widen in shock.

Had she seen wrong? Those eyes that had always been warm and calm were now clearly reddened, seething with some fierce emotion.

Two bolts of sharp gaze swept over. She panicked and stepped back again—yet he was not looking at her, but at her coffin. That dark, barely contained wildness in his eyes nearly made her think he would impulsively wrench open the lid and drag her out to flog her corpse.

But what right did he have to be angry? What right did he have to rage? She had not even settled the scores between them yet—where did he get the face to vent his temper in her spirit hall!

Cheng Mulan clenched her teeth and glared resentfully at the shameless man in front of her. Even if he could not see her, she would still glare at him with all her might, or the hatred would never be soothed.

That’s right—she hated him!

She had hated him for a very, very long time. On that night of raging wind and snow years ago, she never should have shown that pointless kindness and saved the man who had been lying half-dead in the snow.

She never should have met him at all!

Cheng Mulan tightly clenched her fists. She had heard that vengeful ghosts possessed fierce claws, yet her fingernails were still neatly trimmed, showing not the slightest sign of growing into claws. Otherwise she would have raked several deep scratches across this man’s face, adding a few more scars to that handsome countenance…

“Young Gu, let’s go.” Wu Ying urged him again. Seeing that Gu Yanran still did not move, as though his soul had left his body, the general simply seized his arm and forcibly dragged him outward.

This time Gu Yanran did not resist. Perhaps he had finally come to his senses and truly, clearly realized that the woman who had always lived so freely and vividly in his mind was indeed gone.

No one had deceived him. Her spirit hall, her coffin—both clearly confirmed this cruel fact.

She had left. From now on there would never again be anyone who smiled and made noise in front of him, who ordered him about in that proud, spirited tone—

Gu Yanran, bring my horse!

Gu Yanran, I don’t want this. Go buy pastries from Zhenxiu Fang!

Gu Yanran, I want to sneak out and fly a kite. Guard the gate for me!

Never again.

“Commander Gu, this is the young miss’s hairpin.”

On a day of wind and snow, in a private room on the third floor of the capital’s most famous restaurant, Amber—wearing a hooded cloak and clutching a redwood box—quietly arrived through the swirling flakes.

Waiting for her in the private room was Gu Yanran. He rose with solemn care and accepted the redwood box she had brought.

“Thank you, Miss Amber.” Gu Yanran gripped the redwood box tightly in one hand and, with the other, offered a black wooden casket.

Amber took the casket and opened it. Inside were several ingots of gold and silver along with two title deeds. She froze for a moment, looking at Gu Yanran in surprise.

He explained in a calm voice, “These are the deeds to a shop and a two-courtyard residence on the southern side of the capital. They are a gift from me to you. Great kindness needs no words of thanks.”

Amber stiffened, her eyes instantly reddening. “This hairpin was originally the coming-of-age gift you gave the young miss. I am merely returning it to its rightful owner.”

“Regardless, thank you.” Gu Yanran gave a faint smile. “I have heard that the prince’s household has already released your indenture papers. Gu hopes Miss will live in peace from now on. If there is ever anything you need my help with, simply send word to me.”

“Commander Gu, please take care of yourself as well.” Amber paused, then added hesitantly, “The young miss’s spirit in heaven must also hope that you remain safe and well.”

Is that so? Gu Yanran remained silent, a self-mocking curve at the corner of his mouth.

Everyone in Prince Rui’s household said he had caused the Heir’s misfortune on the battlefield. She must have long since hated him to the bone, wishing only to dig out his heart and devour his flesh. If the dead still possessed spirits, he would rather she hated him enough to drag him down to the Nine Springs with her, to entangle him for lifetime after lifetime…

After Amber took her leave, Gu Yanran remained alone in the private room. He stared at the redwood box for a long while before, with trembling hands, slowly opening it.

Inside lay a layer of velvet, and upon the velvet rested a peach-wood hairpin. The head of the pin was finely carved into a single orchid, its petals delicate, a dewdrop nestled in the heart of the flower—so lifelike it seemed real.

Gu Yanran took out the hairpin, his movements extremely light and slow, as though afraid that the slightest carelessness might damage it.

He had no idea that even such gentle handling still startled Cheng Mulan, who had been trapped inside the hairpin. In the blink of an eye she discovered that her soul had regained its freedom and could drift out.

But why was it Gu Yanran again!

The moment Cheng Mulan freed herself from the hairpin she hurriedly floated several steps away—only to quickly realize she could not move further. It was as if an invisible wall blocked her on every side; no matter how she tried, she could not cross it.

She attempted another direction, managed a few steps, and was trapped once more. After several more tries she finally confirmed that the range of her movement was limited to a circle of three chi around Gu Yanran.

Utterly inexplicable!

Cheng Mulan felt a surge of indignation. After Gu Yanran had been forcibly dragged away by Wu Ying that day in the spirit hall, she had suddenly realized she was extremely weak, nearly about to scatter into nothingness. Then an unknown suction force had pulled her straight back to her room and locked her inside this hairpin she had once hidden deep within a vanity case.

For several consecutive days her soul had been trapped inside the hairpin, unable to go anywhere—until today, when her senior maid Amber delivered the hairpin into Gu Yanran’s hands.

Only after hearing their conversation did she suddenly understand that this hairpin had originally been a gift from him . She had always thought it was from the Heir. She truly did not understand why even Amber had kept it from her—Amber was her person!

Cheng Mulan glared furiously at Gu Yanran. He was staring at the hairpin, his expression dazed. Only after a long time did he gently brush his thumb across the vivid, delicate orchid at its head.

“Suisui.” He called the name in a hoarse, low voice.

Cheng Mulan froze on the spot. That was her childhood name. When she was little, the mother who had loved her most had always called her that. After her mother passed away and her father remarried, she had never again heard anyone address her in that way.

“Suisui.” He called once more, a faint smile at the corner of his mouth, his expression somewhat entranced. “Do you know? I have long wanted to call you that. It is a good name.”

What’s so good about it? It’s just a casually given childhood name—who are you trying to fool!

“First I wish my lord a thousand years,

Second I wish this humble one always in good health,

Third I wish we be like the swallows upon the beams,

Year after year meeting again.”

He suddenly recited the lines in a low voice. “Do you remember? You once recited this poem to me. From that moment on I kept it in my heart—year after year, may we always meet.”

Cheng Mulan was stunned. She stood rooted to the spot, staring motionlessly at Gu Yanran, at the indescribable tenderness that had settled between his brows and at the corners of his mouth.

She did remember reciting that poem to him. At the time she had been only thirteen, her head full of romantic notions. She had always imagined that in the future she would have a heroic husband—someone tall and elegant, filled with talent, who would live in perfect harmony with her, love and protect her for a lifetime, and never let her suffer any grievance. Never let her become, after her birth mother’s death, a neglected daughter of the duke’s household who still had to endure the coldness of a stepmother and the bullying of half-siblings.

The Heir of Prince Rui—the future husband her mother had arranged for her on her deathbed—was the one she had always firmly believed would cherish her for a lifetime.

So on that clear autumn day, when she had secretly slipped out of the residence to the horse grounds outside the city, a sudden impulse had led her to recite the poem to the horse slave who had been leading her mount since childhood.

“Gu Yanran, once I marry the Heir and recite this poem to him, do you think he’ll be happy?”

At that moment she had been full of high spirits, seated atop a reddish-brown mare, looking down from a height and flashing her brightest smile at the boy who always wore a straight face and loved to pretend to be proper.

Yet no matter how freely and mischievously she smiled, he remained expressionless. He merely lifted his head and glanced at her coolly. “Young Miss is only thirteen. It is far too early to be thinking of marriage.”

Tch. She had known it—he was finding fault with her lack of dignity again.

Cheng Mulan made a face at him. “Aiya, I’m just thinking about it. Why are you always so lacking in fun?”

She leaned down from the horse, intending to flick his forehead with a knuckle. Unexpectedly she shifted her center of gravity and nearly startled the mount. Fortunately Gu Yanran steadied it without changing expression.

“Young Miss, please do not move about carelessly.” He was as calm as ever.

She was displeased. Even at the risk of losing her balance she was determined to deliver that forehead flick. Puffing with anger, her round eyes glared straight at him, clearly saying, I will move about if I want—what can you do about it?

Indeed, he could do nothing. He only sighed softly. “Young Miss’s riding skill has never improved. It is truly worrying.”

He was mocking her!

She was furious and wanted even more to strike his forehead. She did not know why Heaven seemed to look upon her unfavorably. From childhood she had been skilled in the zither, chess, calligraphy and painting; even her archery was respectable. Yet the moment she mounted a horse it was as if she were possessed—her limbs simply refused to coordinate.

Among all the noble young ladies of the capital, she was probably the only one who, after many years of riding, still needed a horse slave constantly by her side to ensure her safety, lest she tumble from the saddle at any moment of inattention.

She was already annoyed enough, yet this horse slave had no sense of propriety and kept poking at that very point. What other household’s servant dared to lecture his master in return? And she was useless—she always ended up feeling guilty under his lectures.

“Gu Yanran!” she shouted in a temper.

He took a step back and bowed respectfully. “What are Young Miss’s orders?”

“You… you… you just wait! Once I marry the Heir, I’ll have him teach me to ride. Then I’ll definitely make you look at me with new eyes!”

“Over these years Young Miss has changed no fewer than ten riding instructors. Not one of them rides better than this lowly one.”

Meaning: even he had failed to improve her riding—expecting that Heir of yours? Dream on!

“Gu Yanran!” Cheng Mulan was livid.

“This lowly one is here.”

The youth’s brows and eyes did not move; his manner remained perfectly respectful. Yet the calmer his expression, the more irritated she became. Why was this person so detestable? He never showed joy or anger. Back then, when he had been covered in wounds and left alone in the snow to die, he had worn no expression. After she saved him and he knelt to thank her for his life, still no expression. And now, no matter how she teased or provoked him, even when she flourished a riding crop to frighten him or scolded him sharply, he still showed nothing.

A nameless emotion surged fiercely in her chest, like a blazing flame searing her heart. Her whole body burned hot. Without thinking of consequences she kicked the horse’s belly and charged forward recklessly.

Ahead stood a fence used by riders for jumping practice. Previously she had always carefully circled far around it, but this time she seemed to have gone mad, urging the horse straight toward it.

The mare beneath her appeared startled by her recklessness and struggled, unwilling to jump. Its hooves halted abruptly before the fence and the entire horse reared upright.

“Ah!”

She cried out in terror, losing her grip on the reins, and tumbled from the horse’s back. Just as her spine and the back of her head were about to slam hard into the ground, a figure leapt from behind and made himself her cushion in time.