Barely two days after Jiang Xiyan entered the city, Lin Qingye vanished from Ji Mian’s side. Surrounded instead by a different group of attendants, Ji Mian found her expression growing increasingly sullen.
She always felt that there was something wrong with the relationship between the two of them, yet she could not quite put her finger on where the problem lay.
“How come the moment Master Lin leaves, you end up like this?”
Lost in thought, Ji Mian snapped back to reality at the teasing remark, only to feel a surge of hot blood rush to her head.
What did she mean, the moment she left, she ended up like this?
“This Sect Master is in a bad mood. What does that have to do with her?”
Watching Ji Mian’s transparent attempt to cover up her reaction, Jiang Xiyan felt certain of her suspicions.
“Didn’t you say you were heading back? When?”
“Leaving tomorrow.”
The strategy for dealing with Zhesha could not afford any delay; she needed to ascertain what the original host had arranged beforehand to avoid any future troubles.
She had returned this trip without notifying anyone. Having been away for nearly a month or so, counting the days, it should be around the time of Qingming.
Ji Zhaoxue was a native of Canglu, and there were likely quite a few people she needed to memorialize during the festival. As a daughter, she still needed to show some form of observance. On the way, she had purchased some joss paper, candles, and incense, bringing them along with the intention of checking in on Ji Zhaoxue first.
The chill of early spring had already passed. Along the mountain path, she noticed many little wildflowers poking their heads out, covering the ground and presenting a unique scenery of their own. Lost in the view, she arrived up the mountain somewhat late, only to find the dilapidated old gate wide open and a sedan chair parked not far away.
Feeling puzzled, Ji Mian deliberately concealed her presence without revealing herself. Hiding behind a giant boulder, she peered at the scene near the doorway.
No servants were waiting around the sedan chair, but a rather conspicuous emblem was painted upon it.
Squinting, Ji Mian scrutinized it for a moment.
She recognized it as Chen Que’s sedan chair.
The two creatures resembling antelopes suddenly focused their gazes her way. Accidentally catching their line of sight, Ji Mian felt a jolt of panic in her heart. Daring not to peer out any further, she waited until Chen Que emerged from inside, followed by a shrill neigh, the sound of resounding hooves, and the sedan vanishing into the distance amid a swirl of dust.
Only then did Ji Mian poke her head out from behind the boulder, catching a glimpse of the tail-end of dust kicked up by Chen Que’s departing sedan.
It took Ji Mian a good while to calm her racing heart, which had been startled by the two exotic beasts. Standing before the door, she took a deep breath, gently knocked, and stepped inside.
Whether it was just her imagination or not, she fancied that Ji Zhaoxue glared at her with a murderous look in her eyes. Yet, as if it were merely a fleeting illusion, the momentary strangeness vanished unnoticeably, and Ji Zhaoxue’s expression returned to its original, numb blankness.
Not paying it much mind, Ji Mian assumed Ji Zhaoxue’s emotional state was simply affected by her madness. She placed the items she had brought to one side, knelt on one knee before Ji Zhaoxue, and looked up at her aged face. She wanted to reach out and stroke the back of Ji Zhaoxue’s hand, only for the older woman to shrink back and withdraw it.
Ji Mian’s gaze grew obscure and murky.
“Qingming is almost here. I wasn’t sure if there was anyone you wished to memorialize, so I presumptuously brought some items along.”
She shouldn’t have spoken. The moment Ji Mian opened her mouth, Ji Zhaoxue followed the direction of Ji Mian’s finger, catching sight of the sacrificial items wrapped in a cloth inside the bamboo basket. Her silence was shattered in an instant, and her lusterless eyes turned blood-red under her intense gaze.
The woman’s breathing turned ragged, her chest heaving up and down. Reaching out, she violently flipped the bamboo basket over, sending its contents spilling across the floor.
Circular joss paper fluttered and scattered randomly before her eyes, while the sticks of incense rolled everywhere, snapping into tiny, broken pieces.
Before Ji Mian could recover from her bewilderment, Ji Zhaoxue suddenly rose from her reclining chair, whipping out a leather whip tipped with a hook at the end.
The whip lashed through the air. Ji Mian could accurately predict both the landing spot and timing of its descent, yet she did not dodge, as if bound by convention or an irresistible compulsion.
The moment her gaze locked onto Ji Zhaoxue once more, a sense of déjà vu flashed repeatedly before her eyes. She had never experienced such a complex surge of emotions welling up from the depths of her chest.
Her entire body felt limp and weak; she lacked even the strength to raise a hand in defense. Like a madman, the leather whip rained one vicious, wind-whipping lash after another across her body.
Ji Zhaoxue’s movements grew increasingly erratic and devoid of method, striking out blindly with alternating force, lashing wildly at Ji Mian while muttering under her breath.
“What are these things? What are these things? I don’t want them, get away!”
“They aren’t dead! I don’t need these! Get out, get out!”
The piercing shrieks startled the birds roosting deep within the courtyard, sending them scattering in all directions and drowning out the sound of the wooden door being shoved open.
The maidservant she had seen earlier rushed in, dodging the fierce assault and throwing her arms around Ji Zhaoxue. Whispering something unintelligible, she caused the whipping along Ji Mian’s back to finally cease.
With a hazy gaze, Ji Mian looked toward the maidservant. Ji Zhaoxue had closed her eyes in the girl’s arms, appearing to have fallen fast asleep.
Looking at her, the maidservant seemed to harbor a trace of pity.
“Sect Master, the young miss did not mean to do this. You shouldn’t come here anymore. Perhaps the young miss doesn’t wish to see you.”
The maidservant had just returned from outside, carrying a lotus-shaped lantern in her wicker basket. A candle flickered inside it, also meant for memorial rites, though carrying more of a blessing connotation.
Hearing this, Ji Mian couldn’t help feeling a chill run through her heart. Forcing herself to her feet, she said nothing more. Without needing to look, she knew there was probably not a single patch of unbroken skin left on her back; the whip blows, reinforced with internal energy, had penetrated straight to her tendons and bones, making her feel as though her spine had been smashed crooked and could no longer be straightened.
Still, she forced herself to stand upright, kneeling before Ji Zhaoxue to perform a full kowtow.
She had usurped the original host’s body and ought to have provided for her family member; now, however, that seemed hardly necessary anymore.
She suddenly felt that the original host was a truly pathetic figure, like a bird trapped in a cage, its wings clipped, yet still harboring the yearning to spread its wings and fly.
Judging from the maidservant’s reaction, this wasn’t the first or second time Ji Mian had come to see Ji Zhaoxue. Putting two and two together with the injuries on her own body, everything suddenly made sense.
It was all inflicted by Ji Zhaoxue.
Dazed and unsteady, she stumbled her way down the mountain. Gradually feeling a chilling cold envelop her limbs, her vision went black, and she collapsed along the mountain path.
Awakening in the Palace
Catching a whiff of crisp, clean fragrance at the tip of her nose, she stirred, the movement tugging at her injuries and startling her awake with a sharp sting.
Opening her eyes in a daze, she discovered she was already lying inside her own bedchamber. Yuhuai’s figure suddenly entered her field of vision. Retaining her usual expressionless demeanor, Yuhuai held a cyan jade bowl, using a spoon to stir the herbal decoction within.
“Master, do you feel better?”
Ji Mian opened her mouth, only to find herself unable to speak. Her throat felt blocked, like the rusted lock of an old city gate. When she tried to reply, it only triggered a fit of even more urgent coughing.
“Please drink your medicine first.”
Staring hard at the medicine bowl once more, Ji Mian deliberated for a moment before picking it up herself and drinking it dry. Bitter medicine was good for the illness; the astringent taste made her shiver.
“How did I get back?”
Yuhuai naturally raised her eyes toward the window. Following her gaze, Ji Mian realized that night had already fallen deep.
“It is getting late. When I noticed you hadn’t returned, I went out and searched the surrounding area.”
With that, Yuhuai took out an ointment to apply to her wounds.
“The Elder’s illness has never improved over the years; you needn’t take it to heart. The Madam lashes out at nearly all visitors.”
Quickly catching the implication in her words and recalling the person she had seen outside Ji Zhaoxue’s courtyard that day, Ji Mian probed further.
“Nearly all?”
“Yes, aside from the maidservant who always stays by the Elder’s side, and Palace Master Chen Que.”
The maidservant was somewhat understandable, having grown up alongside her and naturally feeling closer than outsiders. But on what grounds did Chen Que qualify? Given Chen Que’s methods, Ji Mian couldn’t help suspecting whether the woman had used some kind of toxin on Ji Zhaoxue, something akin to a Gu worm, which rendered the host subservient to the mother-worm controller once administered.
At this thought, she couldn’t help drawing a sharp breath. Why on earth would the original host cooperate with Chen Que? Doing so was no different from bargaining with a tiger, and in the end, it would yield no benefits whatsoever.
Chen Que was far too complicated; her actions always seemed completely whimsical, devoid of any discernible logic.
“Will Palace Master Chen be at the Jiyan Pavilion tomorrow?”
“Does the Master intend to visit the Jiyan Pavilion?”
“Yes.”
Yuhuai raised no objections.
“Then your subordinate will go and inform her.”
The Jiyan Pavilion
Ji Mian had never visited the Jiyan Pavilion before. The moment she pushed open the door, she suddenly understood why everyone in the Demonic Cult feared her so deeply.
To call it a place where a person lived felt inaccurate to Ji Mian. The space was cluttered with numerous skeletal rocks and living creatures she had never laid eyes on, darting frantically across every hidden corner.
The moment she stepped through the door, Ji Mian felt countless pairs of dense, piercing gazes focus squarely on her. Hurriedly following two guiding little spirits into the room, she found the interior furnishings even more suffocating.
Instead of an open-air corridor, the walkways were draped with layer upon layer of wire mesh, sealing every single gap tightly shut. Entering the passageway required unlocking an iron gate, making the place feel like a subterranean crypt completely shielded from daylight even in the broad afternoon.
Traversing the corridor and arriving at Chen Que’s reception room, she noticed candles placed along the edges emitting a ghostly green fluorescent glow. When a gust of wind from an unknown source scattered these ignis fatuus-like flames, Ji Mian watched as the person before her casually waved a hand, restoring the candles to a normal flame.
Only then did that lingering sense of suffocation dissipate.
“You’re still the same, always afraid of things like this.”
The way she spoke made it sound as if Ji Mian had visited many times before.
Keeping silent, Chen Que narrowed her eyes, sitting comfortably in her seat while tilting her head upward to look at her.
“Sit down first and let me take a look at you.”
Unable to refuse, Ji Mian seated herself opposite her as requested. To her surprise, the other woman produced a pulse pillow and reached out to take her wrist. Startled by the sudden action, Ji Mian hadn’t even had time to react before Chen Que seemingly finished her assessment.
“You… went to see Ji Zhaoxue recently?”
When pronouncing the name Ji Zhaoxue, Chen Que’s voice slurred slightly. “Zhao” sounded somewhat similar to “Zha,” so Ji Mian didn’t think much of it.
At the mention of this, Ji Mian felt a fresh wave of displeasure.
“No matter what, her martial prowess was extraordinary in her youth. If you let her beat you like that a few more times, you’ll probably cripple yourself.”
“Stop going to see her.”
Ji Mian fell speechless, the confusion in her heart growing ever deeper. Staring into Chen Que’s serpent-like heterochromatic eyes, she finally couldn’t help asking aloud,
“Why on earth are you helping me?”