Huai Dream Grass, Soul Returning Incense 5 (11)
The terrain of Mount Wunian was treacherous, and those unfamiliar with its paths rarely came out alive. The area that Madam Qian had led them into was deep within the mountains. It was a place that had already claimed the lives of many capable people, and the formation here could even control a demon’s transformation.
When Yin Guhuai ran to the edge of the cliff, he saw Su Qingtang in blue robes plunging straight down. He was about to jump after her when Gu Quan’s voice came from behind him:
“Your Highness, we’ve caught them.”
The formation was intricate, but the City Patrol Division’s men were no amateurs—especially the ones Yin Guhuai brought this time. Because Su Qingtang had tested the way ahead, only Gu An and Yin Guhuai had been affected by the formation.
Gu Quan hesitated, unsure whether he should speak. They were all men brought by the Crown Prince, and the difference between humans and beasts was their sense of loyalty. He waited nervously for the prince’s reprimand.
Yin Guhuai steadied his breath, looking toward Madam Qian and Qian Hua, who were being restrained. His expression was unreadable.
“So, killing us was your mission from the Huai Dream Grass, wasn’t it?”
“The price was the return of your daughter, wasn’t it?”
Yin Guhuai wasn’t foolish. Everything that had happened along the way pointed to one thing—the only person Madam Qian wanted to save was that daughter named Qian Duo. As for Qian Hua, she was insignificant. Or rather, Madam Qian was gambling that the City Patrol Division wouldn’t dare to kill them.
“What lies beneath this cliff? A cold pool? Or is it where you found the dragon horn?”
Madam Qian stared at Yin Guhuai as he walked closer but didn’t respond.
Her silence was confirmation enough. Yin Guhuai’s suspicions were correct. If that was the case, and the sound-transmitting conch was still intact, then Su Qingtang might still be alive.
That meant these two women had no value anymore.
“Gu Quan, use torture,” Yin Guhuai said as he stepped aside, stomping on a formation point. His tone was lazy, almost casual. “If they refuse to talk, it just means the pain isn’t enough. If physical pain isn’t enough, let’s move on to mental pain.”
Gu Quan obeyed and motioned for the others to begin.
The City Patrol had brought sufficient tools. Though the heavier torture devices from the prison were inconvenient to carry, they had smaller ones—small but designed to inflict agony that no medicine could soothe.
Qian Hua’s eyes widened in terror at the sight of the fine rows of needles and strange silver tools gleaming faintly blue in the mountain mist. A chill wind blew through the valley, spreading the eerie light and filling the air with dread.
“Stop! Don’t! My mother is a victim!” Qian Hua screamed hysterically as a needle was about to pierce Madam Qian’s finger.
Gu An stepped forward, pressing her down. “Your mother’s a victim? Then what about Miss Su? What did Su Qingtang ever do to you?”
He rolled his shoulders and glanced at Zhou Kaili, who was also restrained, and sneered.
Madam Qian was old, but her bones were iron-hard. Even as her ten fingers bled profusely, not a single groan escaped her lips. When Gu Quan withdrew the silver needles, he remarked with meaning, “She’s got backbone—far more than those spoiled brats back in Yingyue City.”
Sweat poured down Madam Qian’s forehead, clouding her vision. She closed her eyes, unwilling to look.
“But,” Gu Quan’s tone changed suddenly, “the body’s done. Let’s test the mind now.”
“Brother.”
Gu An unrolled a small kit of instruments he always carried. It was a finer, crueler set. The sharp needle tips ended in backward hooks.
“Let’s try this. Old Liu said it won’t kill, just hurts like hell.” He laid the tools out on the ground. “Miss Qian, I don’t want to do this, but it was your mother who pushed you toward us earlier—and it was one of our patrolmen who saved you. Yet you used my sword to force Miss Su off a cliff. Tell me, doesn’t that deserve death?”
“No… no, it’s not like that!” Qian Hua shrank back, but a woman’s strength was no match for two trained men. She was pinned down, unable to move.
“How is it not? We lost Miss Su, so losing you should balance it out, don’t you think?” Gu An raised a needle and motioned toward her.
“Mother! Mother, tell them! Please, say something!” Qian Hua cried as the needle neared her skin, regret flooding her heart. Why had she ever done that?
“Stop screaming,” Gu An said coldly. “Didn’t you notice your mother always favored your sister? Even if you die, she’s already sacrificed our Miss Su for her—what a profitable trade.”
His words struck deep. Many truths cannot stand to be examined—especially in the face of death, when forgotten memories resurface.
Qian Hua remembered how her parents treated her after her sister was born. They always told her she was the older one and had to give way. Her sister was bright and gifted—she could always find treasures in the mountains, thousand-year-old ginseng, rare spirit herbs. Everyone adored her.
But Qian Hua? She was useless, always getting lost in the woods, sometimes missing for days before being found half-starved, chewing on bark and roots. After that, she was forbidden from entering the mountains again. She stayed home cooking, waiting for someone—anyone—to save her from her dull life.
Why had she hurt Su Qingtang?
Because she envied her—envied that she had the prince’s protection, and because Su Qingtang, like her sister, could talk to ghosts. But unlike her sister, Qingtang’s conversations could be heard. Her sister’s, though, were always one-sided mutterings.
Her thoughts were a tangled mess. Fragments of her life flashed before her eyes—the nobles and exorcists who came after her sister’s death, none of whom ever returned.
“I… I…” she stammered, trying to piece her memory together.
Madam Qian immediately sensed something was wrong. “Xiaohua, don’t forget what I told you! If you say it, do you think you’ll live?”
Qian Hua looked tearfully at the woman who raised her, full of confusion and hurt. That was her mother—but wasn’t she also her daughter?
“If I don’t speak, I won’t live either,” Yin Guhuai said, releasing the restriction around them. He couldn’t communicate with the forest spirits, but they would likely search for Su Qingtang themselves. More importantly, his sound conch was intact—Su Qingtang was alive.
“Your Highness isn’t supposed to be a benevolent ruler?” Madam Qian asked through damp, clinging bangs.
Yin Guhuai chuckled, eyes turning icy. “A benevolent ruler? Those don’t last long. Everyone must learn to kill to stop killing, to fight evil with evil. Do you want me to reason with you? Reason is for humans—but clearly, I’m not one.”
Gu An raised an eyebrow. “Miss Qian, don’t be afraid. I’m gentle. Blink once, and it’ll be over.”
The needle sank in. Qian Hua’s screams echoed through the mountains, reverberating until they startled Su Qingtang awake.
When Su Qingtang opened her eyes, she pushed herself up and looked around. The scene was bizarre—she was still breathing, fish were swimming past, and one of them even blew a bubble at her.
?!
She pinched her thigh. “Ow!” Pain. Very real pain.
She glanced around again. The deep blue water surrounded her on all sides, and faint light trickled from far above. A realization struck her—she must have fallen into a river while dodging Qian Hua’s blade.
Just then, a voice came from behind.
“Big sister, you’re awake? Welcome to my underwater Dragon Palace!”
Su Qingtang turned mechanically toward the voice—and instantly recoiled, trying to step back, but underwater, she only managed an awkward moonwalk in place.
It was a dragon—just like Yin Guhuai—but this one had different-colored scales and only one horn. As the creature drifted closer, Su Qingtang realized with horror—the dragon sinew they’d found didn’t belong to this one. Which meant… there was another dragon. Oh no.
“Hello, um, so this is your home?” she said cautiously. After being terrified by Yin Guhuai before, she was somewhat numb to seeing dragons now. “Could you tell me exactly where I am?”
The dragon blinked and tilted its head. With a puff of breath, it said cheerfully, “Sure! Do you want to come into my palace?”
Su Qingtang nodded automatically—then realized she couldn’t move. “Uh… sure, but… I seem to be stuck.”
How embarrassing.
The dragon reached out a claw and poked the large bubble encasing her. “I got this! Watch—Double Dragons Playing with a Pearl!”
Its tail swept around, sending a huge current her way.
“No, wait—!” Su Qingtang flailed helplessly, trying to shout and gesture, but the wave hit her full force, knocking her unconscious.
The disturbance in the water caught Yin Guhuai’s attention at the cliff above. Losing interest in the Qian women’s “mother-daughter drama,” he walked to the edge and sensed below. Indeed, there was something strange under the water. Su Qingtang was alive—but he needed to locate her precisely.
Gu Quan noticed his movement and approached. “Your Highness, is it Lady Su?”
“Yes,” Yin Guhuai said. “The water carries the aura of the conch and other spirits. The conch is intact—she’s unharmed.” He paused, then added, “That Zhou Kaili is your brother’s subordinate. I trusted you last time at Tianxiang Pavilion and didn’t punish him. But this time…”
Gu Quan nodded. “Don’t worry, my brother will handle it.”
“As for this Qian mother and daughter,” Gu Quan said, glancing at Qian Hua, “they still won’t speak.”
Yin Guhuai smiled faintly. “Really? What if it were Qian Duo who was in danger instead? Don’t you smell that scent?”
“Revival Incense…” Gu Quan froze. “You mean—”
“Wait for it,” Yin Guhuai said calmly. “A human’s mind is hard to break—but once the right point is struck…” He looked around at the lush vegetation. He couldn’t see or hear the plant spirits, but he could guess what they were doing.
To be born human is to bear a fickle heart; but plants, though silent, are kind and full of feeling. How pitiful.
Sure enough, the others soon noticed the strange fragrance too. Gu An glanced at the composed prince but continued his work, driving the needles in again.
Madam Qian had closed her eyes, ignoring her daughter’s cries. Then she smelled it—the odd fragrance. At first, she didn’t think much of it. The mountains were full of strange herbs. But gradually, she seemed to hear her daughter Qian Duo calling her.
She opened her eyes and saw, not far away, a young woman who looked just like Qian Hua rolling on the ground, crying out in pain:
“Mother, Mother, save me! It hurts! Mother!”
Her voice was mournful, filled with anguish. Yin Guhuai and Gu Quan watched with cold, expressionless faces.
It worked. Her prayers had been answered. The gods had taken pity—her little Duo had returned.
Madam Qian’s once-dead eyes flickered with emotion. She struggled to move closer. “Your Highness! Please, I beg you, spare my little Duo! She’s innocent!”
At Gu Quan’s signal, the guards released her. Madam Qian crawled across the ground, supporting herself with trembling arms. “Your Highness, leading people into the mountain, killing others—those were our doing! It had nothing to do with my youngest daughter! Please, she’s still just a child!”
Yin Guhuai looked at her sudden change in behavior, then at the empty space she was crawling toward. Was she seeing hallucinations?
The shift was so abrupt that even Gu An stopped mid-torture. Qian Hua, drenched in sweat, stared in disbelief.
“Mother… what about me? I’m your daughter too…”