She did not wish to wade further into the murky waters of Prince Jing’s Mansion and firmly refused Zhu Yuanshu: “I cannot help with this matter. Shui Yao, see our guest out!”
“You…”
Zhu Yuanshu was so furious her face contorted.
Shui Yao entered from outside the door and gestured with a “please,” saying, “Concubine, this way.”
“Zhu Changsheng, you’re just jealous that I’m living better than you now and want to harm me. I tell you, don’t even think about it. Without you, I can still obtain the Foundation-Returning Longevity Pill.”
With those words, Zhu Yuanshu turned, opened the door, and hurried away.
Shui Yao noticed a mass of Black Qi behind Zhu Yuanshu, frowned slightly, pointed at the Black Qi on Zhu Yuanshu’s back, and said in surprise, “Young Mistress, the Second Miss actually has a wisp of black mist growing on her back.”
Shui Yao had been frail and sickly since childhood, making her more prone to seeing unclean things than ordinary people.
Over time, this developed into Ghost Sight, allowing her to perceive ghostly phenomena.
If someone near death approached her, she could see strange phenomena on that person.
Just like the mass of black mist on Zhu Yuanshu’s back.
Before Zhu Yuanshu married into Prince Jing’s Mansion, the black mist had not yet formed. Now, less than three days after entering Prince Jing’s Mansion, a faint aura of death had already emerged—an ominous sign!
Zhu Changsheng quickly took out her Life Stone.
The Life Stone was brighter than when she had married.
In the end, it was Zhu Yuanshu who had borne this karma for her…
She put away the Life Stone and said to Shui Yao, “Go bribe the maidservant by the Concubine of Prince Jing’s side. I want to know every move Zhu Yuanshu makes in the Prince’s Mansion.”
“Yes, leave it to this servant.” Shui Yao patted her chest.
At that moment, Nanny Liao entered the Pine Bamboo Courtyard and said, “Young Mistress, the Emperor has left the palace with an imperial decree to offer incense to the ancestors. You must go receive the Emperor now.”
“Alright, let’s go.”
The door closed. After Zhu Changsheng left the courtyard, a figure stealthily emerged from a side gate nearby.
He was dressed in Wei Mansion servant attire, around twenty years old, tall and robust, with thick, bushy eyebrows, triangular eyes, a somewhat flat nose bridge, and dark, rough skin.
He walked up to Zhu Changsheng’s door, first looked left and right, and seeing no one around, quickly pushed the door open, entered the room, and closed the door behind him.
Once inside Zhu Changsheng’s room, the man rubbed his hands together and chuckled a few times. He had heard the bride was very beautiful and wanted to see for himself just how beautiful she was.
Thinking this, the man hurried to the bedside, stripped off his clothes in a few swift movements, stuffed them under the bed, and then pulled aside the bed curtains that had not yet been put away.
The bedding on the bed was neatly arranged, and beside the jade pillow lay a Red Umbrella.
The man reached out, picked up the Red Umbrella, casually tossed it to the floor, then jumped onto Zhu Changsheng’s bed, pulled open the quilt, and hid himself beneath it.
Unbeknownst to him, the Red Umbrella he had just thrown aside slowly floated up into the air.
The bed curtains trembled violently several times.
Though hidden under the quilt, the man suddenly felt a chilling, ghostly breeze on his neck.
He slowly lifted the quilt and peeked out.
Through the gray-black bed curtains, he could vaguely make out a figure standing before them.
The man growled in a low voice, “Who’s there?”
No one answered.
He abruptly pulled aside the bed curtains, only to see the Red Umbrella he had thrown to the floor earlier now suspended in mid-air on its own.
The man’s scalp prickled with fear, and he quickly withdrew his hand.The bed curtains fluttered incessantly. When the man hugged the quilt and peered outside through the curtains again, he once more saw the ghostly figure he had glimpsed earlier.
Thinking his eyes were playing tricks on him, the man frantically raised his hands to rub them.
Upon reopening his eyes, he discovered the bed curtains had parted on their own, and the Red Umbrella swiftly approached, spinning mid-air.
Startled, the man buried himself entirely under the quilt, shouting, “Who, who, who’s pretending to be a ghost? I’m telling you, I’m not afraid!”
“Wei Xing!”
A familiar voice reached the man’s ears.
The man was none other than Lady Xiang’s second son, Wei Xing, twenty years old, fond of women and gambling, and still unmarried.
Hearing his name called, the person under the quilt slowly poked his head out and looked toward the Red Umbrella again, instantly petrified by the sight before him.
Beneath the Red Umbrella stood a soldier clad in armor, gripping a long-handled broadsword, his gaze sharp and his presence exuding a ghostly aura. The broadsword in his hand dripped with fresh blood, and he stood before the bed with a broken, mutilated body, missing one arm and his right leg.
Despite the battle-worn, incomplete state of the figure before him, Wei Xing recognized him at once!
“Wei, Wei, Wei…” The name “Yuan” stuck in his throat. Wei Xing scrambled out of the room, screaming, “Ghost, ghost! There’s a ghost—!”
The soul beneath the umbrella stared with a cold, sinister gaze at Wei Xing, who fled the room bare-bottomed.
The wind closed the door, and Wei Yuan returned inside the umbrella.
The Red Umbrella slowly descended to the floor beside the bed, and the room fell silent once more.
By then, Zhu Changsheng had arrived at the spirit hall courtyard.
There were too many coffins; the spirit hall could barely accommodate ten.
Zhu Changsheng had Su Ji arrange for a large canopy to be set up outside the spirit hall courtyard.
A hundred coffins were placed on either side, leaving only a single pathway leading into the spirit hall.
Officials’ family members, relatives, and friends who came to offer incense could only form a long line, waiting for those ahead to finish paying their respects and exit through another door of the spirit hall courtyard before the next person could enter to offer incense.
The scene was breathtaking, almost enough to move heaven and earth and stir the souls of gods and ghosts.
As Zhu Changsheng stepped into the courtyard, she heard the heart-wrenching sobs of a man coming from inside the spirit hall.
She paused briefly and looked toward the hall.
There, she saw a middle-aged man leaning against Wei Yuan’s coffin, weeping bitterly as he recounted memories of the past.
The middle-aged man, prematurely aged with a head of white hair, wore a white dragon-patterned robe and a black flying dragon hairpin adorned with a pearl. A palm-sized token hung at his waist.
It was said that upon hearing the news of the Wei Mansion’s entire family dying in battle, Emperor Xinlong had fainted in the imperial court and turned white-haired overnight.
Likely, this middle-aged man in the white dragon robe was the Emperor of the Great Jin Kingdom.
During his reign, the people lived in peace and prosperity, enjoying a golden age.
Unfortunately, after the Wei Mansion’s entire family perished in battle, the fortunes of the Great Jin Kingdom began to decline.
This rare, wise ruler of a century did not live to a natural old age but passed away prematurely.
Wei Yuan and Emperor Xinlong could be considered friends despite their age difference.
Zhu Changsheng approached the front of the spirit hall and knelt heavily, paying her respects: “Your subject’s wife, Lady Zhu, pays homage to Your Majesty!”
The man leaning against the coffin slowly raised his head and looked toward Zhu Changsheng.
A eunuch beside him immediately said to the middle-aged man by the coffin, “Your Majesty, that is the widow of Young General Wei. When this servant left the palace to deliver the decree, it was this young madam who informed me of the tragic news of the Wei Mansion’s men dying in battle.”Emperor Xinlong’s sobs gradually subsided. He wiped the tears from his face with his sleeve and walked toward Zhu Changsheng, asking, “Are you the fiancée Wei Siheng mentioned in his letter, the one with whom he shared an unbreakable bond?”
“Your Majesty, this humble woman is indeed she.”
“Good.” Emperor Xinlong nodded slightly but did not immediately allow Zhu Changsheng to rise.
His voice hoarse, he said, “I heard from Lord Zhu that yesterday you followed Siheng’s coffin into the Wei Mansion, marrying him in a posthumous ceremony? And that you personally chose the wedding date. Why did you choose yesterday?”
Zhu Changsheng kept her head lowered, neither submissive nor arrogant, and replied, “Because my husband once told me that upon his triumphant return, he would take me as his wife. Yesterday was the day of his triumphant return. Since he could not come to marry me, I went to marry him.”
She slightly raised her eyes, a faint red rim forming around them, tears glistening in their corners.
The ministers in the courtyard were moved to tears by Zhu Changsheng’s words—what a woman of profound love and unwavering devotion…