“Ah—!”
“Human hearts in the balm?!”
“A h-heart… using a person’s heart…”
Screams rose one after another, sharp and chilling. Cai Wei saw Xue Qin frozen in horror and stammered, “Miss, this Kang Jingming has been putting human hearts into the balm! You’ve been applying half a box of that balm on yourself every single day—”
“Silence!” Xue Qin’s face turned ashen, her fingers clutching her sleeve to suppress the nausea rising in her throat. Not only had she slathered the balm thickly in the past to nourish her skin, but even today, she had painted on a full set of rouge and lip color before leaving home. Now, she felt as though countless insects were crawling over her body, her throat surging with bile. “Back to the manor—leave this place at once!”
She could not endure another moment. The other ladies, long-time patrons of Fuxiang Studio, were equally stricken with despair. Some clung to the pillars, retching; some cursed furiously; others grabbed tea to scrub the rouge and powder from their faces without care.
Fu Yunci seized Yu Zitong’s hand and asked, “Zitong, did you use it?”
Yu Zitong gritted her teeth. “Not today—but I did use the rouge twice before.”
Amid the chaos, only Princess Qingyang remained composed. She demanded, “To use human hearts in fragrance—Kang Jingming, have you lost your mind?!”
From behind the lattice window, Kang Jingming smiled languidly. “Your Highness, I once read a fragrance compendium from a century ago. It claimed that a lover’s heart is the most precious thing in the world. Used in perfume, it grants eternal youth and a soul-stirring allure. I heard many patrons who wore my balm found good matches—doesn’t that prove my knowledge true? Since April, all of Chang’an has prized Fuxiang Studio’s balm. Surely that proves no one but I can craft such fine scents.”
“You beast—!” Kang Long could not restrain himself and shouted, “You disgraceful wretch! It’s bad enough you lack the slightest talent for the Kang family’s art of fragrance-making—but now, in your lust for fame and profit, you resort to such monstrous methods? If Yun’er knew, how could she ever allow this?!”
At that, Kang Long suddenly froze, realization dawning. “Yes… she knew. She must have known long ago! You feared she would expose you, so you seized her. Speak the truth—where have you hidden her?!”
At the mention of Kang Yun, Kang Jingming’s expression darkened. “How dare you even speak of my sister? All of this began because of you, old tyrant. Had you not forced her into marriage, how would today’s calamity have come to pass?”
On the second floor, the chamber doors were locked tight. Guards had already begun battering them down. In the flower hall below, guests were in uproar, many desperate to flee. But in Kang Jingming’s eyes flickered a manic gleam. “Ladies and gentlemen, today is an auspicious day. You all want to know where my sister is, don’t you? Very well—come with me, and you shall see!”
With those words, he retreated step by step toward the rear window. And before all eyes, he suddenly flung it open and leaped into the darkness beyond—
Pei Yan barked, “What lies behind Fuxiang Studio?”
Chen An, shattered and trembling, cried out, “Behind us is an old residence belonging to another family, separated by a narrow alley barely three feet wide. This side building is only for the master’s occasional rest—ordinarily no one enters. I’ve been inside twice, but I remember that the rear window was sealed shut. How could it open today?!”
Pei Yan strode swiftly into the main room of the side building. The furnishings were simple, elegant, and spare. Though the pounding upstairs grew louder, his gaze swept the chamber calmly, calculating. Soon, his eyes fixed upon an inconspicuous black lacquered cabinet against the western wall.
“Jiu Si—”
The guards of the Court surrounded the chamber. Jiang Li and Fu Yunheng followed close behind. In the courtyard, many guests had meant to leave, but having been deceived by Kang Jingming, their hatred ran deep. And now, knowing the truth, none wished to depart without discovering where he had hidden his sister. Led by Princess Qingyang, they surged forward.
Inside, Jiu Si was probing the black cabinet. At a certain moment, he twisted something—and suddenly, from within the wall came the grinding of hidden gears. The cabinet shifted with the wall, and in the next instant, a pitch-dark passageway yawned open.
Lu Zhuo immediately led the men to investigate the opening. Princess Qingyang moved to follow, but Pei Yan barred her way. “Your Highness, there may be danger—”
The princess, furious, clenched her teeth. “Hechen, with so many guards here, do you still fear one Kang Jingming? Tonight I will see for myself what medicine this villain hides in his gourd!”
No sooner had Princess Qingyang spoken than a muffled shout echoed from within the passage—Lu Zhuo’s voice, heavy and shaken: “My lord, come quickly—!”
His tone carried more shock than urgency. Seeing the princess determined, Pei Yan had no choice but to step into the passage first. The tunnel sloped downward, nearly five feet high, its destination unknown. Yet after only a few dozen paces, a faintly lit staircase appeared.
Pei Yan quickened his stride. Emerging from the stairway, he was struck speechless by the sight before him.
The passage opened into a riverside hall. Inside, all was dark; outside, ablaze with lantern light. From the hall, they stepped onto a terrace overlooking a shallow lake and an artificial hill. Across the water stood a pavilion of carved beams and green tiles. Beneath its eaves hung scarlet wedding drapes, and bright red lanterns emblazoned with the character *xi* (joy) glowed brilliantly. Through the wide-open windows, amid flickering candles, two figures reclined together upon a bridal bed draped in crimson silk.
The pair clung close. One wore a robe of auspicious red, embroidered with golden dragons and phoenixes—it was Kang Jingming. In his arms lay a woman clad in a scarlet gown patterned with pomegranates and paired mandarin ducks, over which flowed a shimmering cape of lotus and cloud motifs. A golden veil embroidered with peonies and phoenixes concealed her face.
Her features were hidden, but her slender frame revealed she was a woman. Whether drugged or weakened, she leaned helplessly against Kang Jingming. With a hostage in his grasp, the guards dared not act rashly.
Suddenly, Kang Long cried out in horror: “I know that wedding robe! Yun’er ordered it this March at the Brocade Workshop—I could never mistake it. Yun’er, it’s Yun’er—!”
The recognition sent a chill through the crowd. Gasps broke out all around.
“That’s Miss Kang…”
“He means to wed his own sister?!”
“Madness—utter madness…”
Gasps and cries rose all around. Kang Jingming clearly heard them, yet remained utterly unmoved, as though determined that everyone should witness this scene. Half-embracing the veiled bride, he pressed his cheek tenderly against her hair. The affection on his face was suffused with a deranged obsession, enough to make hearts tremble.
Seeing the bride under the veil offer no resistance, Kang Long could not hold back his roar: “Kang Jingming, what have you done to Yun’er?!”
Kang Jingming’s lips curved in a faint smile, his voice dreamy: “Uncle, can’t you see? Today is my wedding day with my sister. With so many guests here to celebrate, both she and I are overjoyed…”
Kang Long’s eyes bulged in fury. “Beast! If you have the courage, let Yun’er speak! She was always a woman of propriety—how could she ever consent to such shameless, incestuous disgrace? Make her speak!”
But Kang Jingming was unfazed. Instead, he kissed Kang Yun’s forehead and murmured with solemn devotion: “Sister, do you see? My love for you shines brighter than sun and moon. Tonight, so many have come to celebrate our union. From this day forth, you and I are bound in eternal harmony, joined heart to heart, growing old together. No one in this world will ever part us.” His words dripped with tender passion. As he kissed her, the red bridal veil trembled lightly.
Carried away, Kang Jingming clasped her hand through the wedding robe, raising it to his lips again and again. “Sister, at last you wear the bridal gown for me. Do you know how long I have waited…” He spoke with rapture—but at that moment, the crimson veil slipped from her head. In the next instant, a shriek of sheer terror tore through the hall.
Beneath the splendid wedding robes, the bride’s face was swollen and livid, mottled with corpse-spots and festering sores. Veins stood out dark and branching across her neck. Against the blazing red of the bridal gown, the visage of a long-dead corpse was all the more ghastly. And in those ruined features, one could still discern the likeness of Kang Yun, eldest daughter of Ningxiang Pavilion!
The hall fell into petrified silence, as if struck by lightning. Kang Yun was already dead—and Kang Jingming sought to wed his own sister in a marriage with the dead. Staring at the body clad in scarlet bridal robes, the crowd did not know whether to shudder in fear or weep in sorrow.
Yet Kang Jingming showed no horror. He cradled her face tenderly. “Sister, you loved beauty most of all. But five months have passed—even the finest balm cannot restore you. Since that is so, I will not let you walk the road to the underworld alone—”
Kang Long’s vision went red. “You murdered Yun’er! Kang Jingming, you are worse than a beast!”
But Kang Jingming only smiled gently. “Sister, you cannot know how happy I am. At last, I can be with you. So many have come today to celebrate our wedding. Are you glad? Are you joyful…”
He kissed her corpse’s nose and lips, whispering softly: “Sister, I know you cannot hear. No matter—soon they will all come below to tell you themselves—”
At those words, the hall froze, not yet grasping his meaning. Then, from the western side, Fu Yunheng’s eyes widened as he looked toward the eastern corridor. “Fire—it’s on fire—!”
All turned in horror. A column of flame shot skyward, sweeping with unstoppable force toward the hall where they stood.