《Ghost Blows Out the Light》Those were the plotlines I’d read over and over, so familiar I knew them by heart—the things I’d told my classmates as anecdotes.
And now I was inside the story.
“Madam?”
A Ya’s voice pulled me back.
She tilted her head and looked at me, seeming a little worried.
I made a gesture for her to continue.
A Ya picked up the comb again and drew it through my hair, continuing to speak. “The person Madam saw yesterday…” Her voice dropped a little. “That was the Witch King.”
The Witch King.
Not “king,” an abbreviation for the emperor as I’d thought. The Witch King.
“The Witch King came from a collateral branch of the royal family. From a young age, he studied secret Gu Sorcery, Feng Shui and geomancy, and shamanic rites.” A Ya’s voice was so flat that she didn’t sound like she was talking about a living person. It was more like she was reciting a lesson she knew by heart. “He was appointed High Priest at ten. At fifteen, he crushed every noble sorcerer in the kingdom and became the highest-ranking Priest, second only to the King of Dian.”
She paused.
I waited.
“Judging by the Witch King’s appearance, how old do you think he is, Madam?”
I gestured, holding up one finger, then six. Sixteen.
A Ya shook her head.
“Twenty-seven.”
I turned to look at her.
Afraid I wouldn’t believe her, A Ya repeated, “The Witch King is twenty-seven this year.”
Twenty-seven.
That porcelain-like face, skin without a single pore, an unnaturally slow pulse, no sweat, no color.
“The Witch King has taken elixirs for years, so he doesn’t age like ordinary people.” A Ya’s voice grew even lower as the comb slid through the ends of my hair. “Not only does he look like a boy, his body is that of one, too.”
His body, too.
“A few days ago, the Witch King suddenly said he wanted to…” A Ya hesitated, then used a rather stiff expression. “To have relations between a man and a woman. But most of the female attendants prepared for this before had been killed, so the King of Dian sent over a batch of the female attendants who’d been chosen earlier. Madam was among them.”
So last night hadn’t just been my first time.
Twenty-seven years. He’d lived for twenty-seven years, and last night was the first time he’d touched a woman.
The water had gone cold.
A Ya helped me out and wrapped me in a dry cloth. I stood beside the wooden tub, and once the steam dissipated, goosebumps rose across my skin.
“A Ya.”
I made no sound. I only parted my lips, pointed at her, and gestured for her to continue.
She understood.
As she helped me put on my underclothes, she never stopped talking.
“Madam may find it strange—how does this servant know so much?” She answered her own question. “I’ve been in the palace for six years. I don’t dare do much, but I hear plenty. In this place, you survive longer with your ears than with your hands and feet.”
I agreed with that.
“The Witch King kills someone every day.” A Ya continued combing my hair. “He reads ancient texts, practices Gu Sorcery, and kills people.”
She spoke the last two words matter-of-factly, without a change in her tone.
A chill ran down my back.
“It’s understandable that he kills when he’s in a bad mood,” she continued. “But the Witch King kills when he’s in a good mood, too. He feels happy, and kills someone on a whim. He thinks an attendant’s footsteps are too loud, and kills them. He thinks today’s food tastes wrong, and kills someone.”
“So the rules are: don’t look up, don’t make a sound, and don’t look him in the eye. Follow those three rules, and you might live a little longer.” A Ya tucked the last strand of hair into my hairpin and lifted her hand from my head. “Madam not being able to speak is actually… a good thing.”
She crouched in front of me and looked up at me, her chin square.
I looked into her eyes.
On the surface, the girl was teaching me the rules. But every detail she chose, every example she gave, conveyed the same message.
.
The thing sleeping beside you isn’t human. Don’t treat him like a person. Don’t try to please him, don’t try to understand him, and don’t try to find any trace of humanity in him.
The only way to stay alive is to keep from attracting his attention.
But he’d already noticed me.
I was the one he’d chosen. He’d lifted my chin with his own sword, seen me smile, and said, “Her.”
There was no way I could keep from attracting his attention.
A Ya seemed to realize this, too. Her expression shifted, but in the end she said nothing more. She stood up, stepped back, and waited with her head lowered.
No one came to call for me in the days that followed.
I stayed in this side courtyard, spending every day with A Ya and A Zhen.
A Zhen was responsible for the heavy work in the courtyard: chopping wood, carrying water, and scrubbing the floors.
She worked without a word, moving with incredible speed. When she was done, she retreated to her own corner and crouched there.
A Ya took care of my food and daily needs. But to be honest, “daily needs” was far too grand a description for me. I wasn’t some real mistress.
I was still eating rice porridge, with two pieces of cake added. I ate slowly, not out of daintiness, but because I was afraid my stomach couldn’t handle food too quickly. This body had been starved for too long and needed to recover gradually.
When I finished, I stacked the bowls neatly at the corner of the table and wiped my mouth with a handkerchief.
A Ya came in to collect the bowls and paused in surprise.
“Madam put all the bowls away?”
Looking at her expression, I couldn’t help wanting to laugh.
I pointed at myself, then at her, and held both hands level. We were the same.
She seemed to understand what I meant. Scratching her head, she said softly, “Madam is different from the other madams.”
The other madams? I raised an eyebrow.
“The Witch King never had a bed attendant before, but I’ve heard about the madams over at the King of Dian’s residence.” A Ya picked up the bowls. “Not one of those madams would lift a finger. They order their maids around like dogs.”
After saying this, she grimaced, as if she thought the comparison wasn’t quite appropriate.
On the third day, I began helping A Ya with her work.
It wasn’t because I’d had some kind of revelation; I was bored out of my mind. This side courtyard had nothing but a well, six rooms, and two low trees.
If I sat around in my room all day, I’d go crazy sooner or later.
When A Ya drew water to wash clothes, I helped her wring them out. When she wiped the table, I took another cloth and wiped the bronze mirror.
At first, she tried to stop me. After she’d tried twice and realized she couldn’t, she let me be.
When we worked together, A Ya couldn’t stop talking.
“Does Madam know what the Witch King does every day?”
I looked at her and gestured for her to tell me.
“The Witch King’s days run like a water clock, every hour set in stone, never off by a minute.” A Ya crouched beside the well washing a cloth. Her voice was low, but she spoke rapidly. “He rises at Mao hour and takes an elixir first. Then he bathes and cleanses himself. At exactly Chen hour, he goes to the inner hall to read ancient texts and bamboo slips. He reads for two full hours without eating, drinking, or seeing anyone.”
I crouched beside her, wringing out a cloth and listening intently.
“He eats at noon. His meals are different from ours. Everything is medicinal cuisine, and there’s no room for error in what goes with what or which dish comes first.” She rubbed the dirt off the cloth. “I heard that once, an attendant in the kitchen served two dishes in the wrong order.”
She didn’t go on.
She didn’t need to. I knew how it ended.
“After lunch, he practices sorcery.” A Ya’s voice dropped even lower. “This servant doesn’t dare ask too much about it. I only know that the Witch King goes into the Bright Pavilion, and no one is allowed near. Two rows of warriors stand guard outside.”