Boom—!
A silver bolt of lightning tore through the night sky, thunder cracking as the first storm of spring erupted. Rolling peals of thunder sounded amid sheets of torrential rain, which hammered against the pitch-black coffin before the gates of the Court of Judicial Review with a dull, heavy sound.
Dozens of armored soldiers surrounded the entrance, facing off against the court clerks who tried to block their way, everyone tense in the downpour.
The suffocating aura of murderous intent drove the townsfolk to hastily shut their doors and windows.
In a small tavern across the street from the court, a waiter was herding the customers who had been watching from beneath the eaves back inside.
“Neighbors, come inside quickly! When nobles clash, we common folk can’t afford to get involved. Best keep our distance.”
“Brother, what’s happening at the Court of Judicial Review?” a customer asked.
“The Shi household held their wedding banquet yesterday, and the young master of Marquis Anping’s family—who had just married in—died in the bridal chamber! The wedding hall turned into a funeral hall overnight!”
“And Shi Wuxie became the prime suspect on the spot. He should have been thrown in jail pending trial, but somehow he escaped—and instead of running, he insisted on examining the body himself! Now Marquis Anping has brought soldiers to seize his son’s corpse!”
The few patrons in the tavern began murmuring among themselves—
“I heard about this long ago. Shi Wuxie was quite unhappy with the marriage. Just think—a perfectly respectable fourth-rank official, forced to marry a male spouse? Isn’t that demanding he end his family line?”
“Shh—! This was a marriage decreed by His Majesty! Do you have a death wish?”
Someone lowered their voice. “If you ask me, he might well be the killer!”
“But even if he escaped prison, you’d think he’d flee. Instead, he comes back to examine the body himself? The man’s a madman!”
“And what was Marquis Anping thinking, petitioning the throne to marry his son into that madman’s family? Wasn’t that throwing his boy into a fire pit?”
“I know! Word is a diviner calculated that the young master’s Fate Pattern was too weak—he wouldn’t live past his coming-of-age ceremony. He needed to marry someone with a strong fate to offset it.”
“Speaking of strong fates—I’ve heard Shi Wuxie is a sinister one. The court offices are haunted all year round. You know why he’s so uncanny at solving cases?” The speaker leaned in mysteriously. “Because his Primordial Spirit is a King of Hell from the underworld! Remember that headless corpse case not long ago? Someone claims they saw a Ghostly Shadow drifting through the court offices…”
The tavern’s lamplight flickered, dimming and brightening. Occasional whispers drifted out the window, punctuated by hair-raising gasps, all swallowed by the thunder and rain of the spring storm.
Inside the court’s examination chamber.
The cold, cavernous room blazed with candlelight, illuminating the night as brightly as day.
A corpse still clad in wedding robes lay on the frigid examination table. The air was thick with the heavy stench of blood and a peculiar medicinal scent.
Beside the stone table stood a figure—lean and straight as a solitary blade. He wore a moon-white, narrow-sleeved robe beneath a coarse hemp examination smock.
His long dark hair was pinned up with a simple wooden hairpin, and beneath the loose strands falling over his forehead was a cold, aloof face, its features so sharply defined they seemed almost ruthless—like a jade effigy from the Senluo Hall. His pitch-black pupils, still as an ancient well, reflected the stiff, cold corpse on the stone table with utter indifference.
Even with a face pale as paper, the dead man’s striking beauty was undeniable. Long lashes cast faint shadows beneath eyes ringed with dark circles. Bloodless lips pressed into a straight line, their corners curving upward ever so slightly in a natural hint of a smile. There was a deathly, still-life beauty about him.
Shi Wuxie undid the corpse’s robes, exposing his chest, then raised his scalpel.
The gleaming silver blade was just about to descend when a guard, drenched through by the rain, suddenly pushed open the door and rushed in, crying urgently, “My lord, Marquis Anping has forced his way in with armored soldiers! Our yamen runners can’t hold them back!”
The words had barely left his mouth when a deep, cold voice pierced through the curtain of rain.
“Shi Wuxie! Return my son’s corpse!”
The clanking of armor pressed closer like a rising tide. A dozen elite armored soldiers burst through the door, and the biting, moisture-laden wind rushed in, making the lamplight flicker unsteadily and the shadows sway.
A towering figure in a python robe stepped unhurriedly across the threshold, treading through the rainwater.
Marquis Anping’s face was grim and heavy, radiating an oppressive air.
Shi Wuxie acted as though he hadn’t heard, not even lifting his eyes.
He merely drew a light breath, reached out to shield the candle flame swaying in the draft, and waited until it steadied before giving a slight nod, as though satisfied with the light. Then, steadying the scalpel, he pressed its tip directly toward the corpse’s heart.
The blade pierced the skin, and a trace of blood instantly seeped from the porcelain-white chest.
Marquis Anping’s pupils contracted at the sight, and he barked sharply, “Stop!”
Shi Wuxie slowly raised his head and looked at Marquis Anping’s tense face, yet he did not stop. Instead, he deliberately drew the blade a little farther downward.
Marquis Anping stared at him in disbelief.
His gaze fell on the fresh incision slowly welling with blood on his son’s chest, and the corners of his mouth twitched several times. With a sharp shing, he drew his saber and ground out through clenched teeth, “I said—stop!”
Marquis Anping flipped his wrist, and the saber shot straight toward Shi Wuxie with a whistle.
The blade flashed like a bolt of white silk, slicing through the air with a sharp howl. It grazed Shi Wuxie’s cheek before its tip buried itself in the brick wall. The snow-white blade trembled violently, emitting a low hum.
A thin line of blood appeared on Shi Wuxie’s fair cheek. The hand holding the scalpel finally paused. His lashes lowered as he watched the few severed strands of hair drift down and land gently on the corpse’s chest.
He frowned slightly, used tweezers to carefully remove the strands, and, after confirming that no other contaminants remained on the body, slowly raised his head.
“Marquis, you’ve contaminated the evidence.”
Marquis Anping was nearly speechless with fury. “You call my son evidence?!”
Shi Wuxie nodded slowly. Only now did a hint of displeasure surface in his black eyes, which had been as calm as a deep pool. Yet it was not because of his brush with death just now.
He said to Chu Ji with a serious expression, as though lecturing him, “A corpse is crucial physical evidence and must not be damaged.”
Marquis Anping stared at him for a long moment, then ground out, “You madman.”
He raised a hand. “Men! Shi Wuxie bore resentment over His Majesty’s betrothal decree, and now he has murdered my son and attempted to destroy the corpse to cover his tracks. Seize this man at once!”
The armored soldiers drew their blades in response.
Yet Shi Wuxie still did not move. He lifted his eyes to look at Chu Ji, his slender lashes slowly fluttering.
In his line of sight, a Ghostly Shadow stood beside Chu Ji—a pallid middle-aged man with a deep gash across his neck that had nearly severed his head. Blood gushed steadily from the wound, and his head lolled at a grotesque angle as though it might fall off at any moment.
The head leaned close to the side of Chu Ji’s neck, hollow eyes staring fixedly at the pulsing carotid artery.
Then, eerily, the head slowly turned. The blood-red corners of its mouth split open almost to its ears, baring a silent, horrifying grin at Shi Wuxie.
【Yu Nu[1]The Ghostly Shadow uses “Yu Nu” as an intimate/personal form of address for Shi Wuxie. jQuery('#footnote_plugin_tooltip_3398106_1_1').tooltip({ tip: '#footnote_plugin_tooltip_text_3398106_1_1', tipClass: 'footnote_tooltip', effect: 'fade', predelay: 0, fadeInSpeed: 200, delay: 400, fadeOutSpeed: 200, position: 'top center', relative: true, offset: [-7, 0], });, I really want to bite him to death.】
Shi Wuxie blinked slowly, as though he had heard an interesting suggestion. His tone was flat yet carried a hint of goading.
“Then give it a try.”
The Ghostly Shadow instantly grew excited. It opened its bloody maw and, accompanied by a gust of eerie wind, pounced ferociously at Marquis Anping’s neck.
Then, like a wisp of illusory smoke, it passed straight through Marquis Anping’s body without the slightest obstruction and drifted far beyond him.
Having pounced on empty air, the Ghostly Shadow froze in place.
Unwilling to give up, it transformed into a mass of black qi and darted back and forth through Marquis Anping—from his left shoulder to his right, from his chest to his back—like an irritable mosquito unable to find a place to land.
In the end, it failed to cause him any harm whatsoever.
The Ghostly Shadow fell silent.
It drifted back to Shi Wuxie’s side, reverted to human form, and hung its head dejectedly.
【I don’t have a physical body. I can’t bite…】
The light that had just kindled in Shi Wuxie’s eyes dimmed instantly, his face showing undisguised disappointment.
One man and one ghost hung their heads in unison.
Everyone around them remained completely unaware of the bizarre scene.
But just then, the Ghostly Shadow seemed to sense something. Its black qi reverted to human form, and it drifted toward the autopsy table, uttering a puzzled—
【Huh?】
Shi Wuxie followed its gaze and saw the corpse’s eyelashes suddenly tremble.
Then his eyes opened.
They were a pair of fox-like eyes, their irises a deep brown that shimmered with an amber luster beneath the candlelight.
The instant their gazes met Shi Wuxie’s, the originally unfocused pupils suddenly contracted, as though a beam of light had abruptly illuminated a deep pool, or a cluster of soul-fire had been kindled amid the silence of death.
Shi Wuxie’s expression did not change, but a barely perceptible ripple passed through his bright, glistening eyes.
Oh, interesting.
The eerie voice beside his ear suddenly began to giggle.
【Yu Nu, the corpse~ is~ rising~】
The “corpse” suddenly tilted his head. As he turned his neck, his bones produced a faint, teeth-grating crack-crack.
The room fell into an eerie silence, leaving only the patter of rain outside the window.
After a few breaths, there was a clang as an armored soldier’s grip on his blade faltered. Staring in horror at the corpse, he stumbled backward, trembling.
“A c-c-corpse has risen!”
Only then did the others react, every face draining of color. Some of the more cowardly ones went weak in the legs and collapsed straight to the ground.
Only Shi Wuxie remained unmoved.
He calmly lowered his eyes, his gaze resting on the “corpse”—
Those amber eyes slowly moved, their seemingly lifeless gaze sweeping over the roomful of terrified people. Then a flicker of understanding and eager excitement passed through the depths of those pupils.
As though he had discovered something interesting, the corpse’s thin lips curved into a sly arc.
The next moment—
Before everyone’s eyes, the “corpse” suddenly exerted force through his back and slowly, stiffly sat upright.
The candlelight cast a swaying, flickering shadow behind him, stretching the seated figure long and short by turns. With his long hair hanging loose, his face appeared even more ghastly pale, like a vengeful ghost that had crawled back from hell to claim lives.
Sharp intakes of breath sounded all around.
“Heh—”
The “corpse” suddenly stretched his mouth into a stiff, exaggerated “smile.” His eyes stared fixedly at the soldiers, who had already gone pale as death, while a strange, rasping laugh rose from his throat.
The soldiers, frozen in terror, were jolted back to their senses by the laughter. Suddenly, they let out miserable screams and fled toward the door in a scrambling mass, each desperate to be the first out.
“G-ghost… ghost!”
“Run—!”
Panic spread like a plague.
As though quite satisfied with everyone’s reaction, the “corpse” wore a faint smile as he slowly and haltingly slid down from the autopsy table, his bare feet touching the cold ground.
Wherever he went, the crowd scattered in terror like a receding tide. Some collapsed to the ground as their legs gave way; others wailed in terror. The entire government office descended into chaos.
In moments, the crowd had scattered in every direction.
Seeing that almost everyone had fled, the “corpse” paused. Then he abruptly turned, chose a new target, and began walking toward a figure frozen stiff in place, drawing out his voice as he went.
“I died so miserably—”
Chu Ji watched his dead son walking toward him. He forced himself to remain calm, but his voice trembled beyond his control.
“Xi’er… Father will surely avenge you. You… rest in peace!”
At the word “Father,” the “corpse” slowly tilted his head to one side, his gaze fixed on Chu Ji’s terrified eyes, his breathy voice eerie.
“Father… your child… cannot rest in peace…”
As the words fell, the “corpse” suddenly thrust out both arms, ten pale fingers lunging toward Chu Ji’s neck.
“Ah—!”
Chu Ji stumbled backward in terror. In his panic, he grabbed the handle of the weapon that had fallen to the ground and swung it wildly.
Yet the “corpse” dodged sideways like a phantom, simultaneously striking Chu Ji’s wrist with one palm.
Clang—
The weapon fell to the ground.
“Father—Father—” the “corpse” drawled. “Do you want to kill your child? How cruel you are—”
The moment the weapon hit the ground, Chu Ji’s psychological defenses collapsed entirely. With a soul-shattering shriek, he fell sprawling to the ground and stared up in terror at the crimson figure slowly approaching him.
The wind and rain sent the sleeves of the wedding robes fluttering, casting a shadow over him.
Boom—!
A thunderclap exploded at that moment, and pallid lightning streaked past the window lattice, illuminating the looming face from above and making it appear even more horrifying, like a vengeful ghost stepping out of the underworld.
Chu Ji’s pupils dilated in shock. After a moment of stupefaction, he could no longer care about anything else. He scrambled toward the door, his voice hoarse.
“Xi—Xi’er, wait for Father! Once Father finds help, he will surely return to save your corpse!”
Before he had even finished speaking, Chu Ji had already plunged into the curtain of rain, fleeing for his life.
Watching the crowd flee in panic, Chu Yunxi’s shoulders shook gently as a low laugh escaped him, sounding especially chilling amid the thunder and rain.
“Pfft—hahaha—!”
The laughter was impossible to contain. Chu Yunxi doubled over, his whole body trembling with laughter in the wind, which only added another layer of eeriness to the terrifying atmosphere.
After a long while, once everyone had completely disappeared, he finally stopped laughing and gave a long, lazy yawn as though no one else were around. His stiff bones crackled with the movement.
He gazed into the pitch-black rainy night beyond the empty corridor and muttered under his breath, “They all just ran off? So easily scared.”
After moving around, a trace of color returned to his pallid face.
He rolled his neck as he casually turned around, only for his gaze to freeze when it reached the area beside the autopsy table.
Huh?
There was still someone standing there.
A gaunt figure in grayish-white robes had not moved a single step from beginning to end. He merely tilted his head slightly and quietly watched Chu Yunxi.
His face, carved like cold jade in the dim light, was flawless yet icy, seemingly devoid of any vitality. It made Chu Yunxi’s heart inexplicably tighten.
He narrowed his eyes, a sharp glint flashing in their depths. Then he let his shoulders slump once more and shuffled closer, drawling as he walked.
“I died—so—wrongfully—ah—”
Yet Shi Wuxie merely watched him until only a single step remained between them, then calmly said, “Lie down properly.”
Chu Yunxi stopped mid-step.
Huh?
Before he could react, Shi Wuxie struck like lightning, precisely clamping down on the acupoint at the side of his neck while simultaneously stepping forward and kicking the numb spot behind his knee.
The move was swift and cunning. Chu Yunxi had no time to react. He only felt half his body go numb as his knee buckled beneath him. Before his startled cry could escape, the force carried him along, and amid a dizzying spin, he found himself laid back down on the autopsy table.
Shi Wuxie leaned over him, a faint glimmer of excitement flickering in his eyes.
“Don’t worry. Since we’ve already bowed in marriage, I am your husband. Once I finish the autopsy, I will surely seek justice for you.”
Chu Yunxi stared at him in stunned disbelief.
…Huh?
Still dazed, he watched as Shi Wuxie produced a rope from somewhere with lightning speed and deftly bound his arms.
The next moment, a gleaming scalpel appeared before his eyes, its tip slicing straight toward his exposed chest.
A chill shot across Chu Yunxi’s scalp.
“Wait!”
The sharp blade halted in midair.
Chu Yunxi closed his eyes and took a long breath. Then he pulled a fawning smile onto his face for Shi Wuxie. His stunning fox-like eyes curved into crescents, sparkling brightly.
“Um… you might not believe this, but I think I’m probably not dead yet. Maybe… there’s still a chance to save me?”
As the words fell, Shi Wuxie’s pitch-black pupils suddenly lit up, blazing with excitement.
References[+]