Xie Wuwei was dead. His soul was currently sitting on top of his own grave, basking in the sun. He looked completely relaxed, entirely unaware that the grave beneath his backside was about to be dug up.
Unlike most newly departed souls, he seemed utterly unconcerned about his own death, even quite pleased, happily studying his semi-translucent hands against the sunlight.
This once-influential, gifted figure of immense authority who had wielded the power of life and death had suddenly passed away four years after his defection. Yet, it seemed nobody felt any real pity. In fact, quite a few people openly remarked that he deserved it and rushed out to buy tens of thousands of firecrackers to celebrate.
After all, Xie Wuwei’s reputation was truly abysmal. He had defected from the Immortal Alliance, betrayed his master, trampled on human lives, slaughtered the innocent, forcibly seized supreme treasures, and even harassed upright cultivators. He had committed every evil imaginable, his crimes too numerous to list.
Still, many people were deeply surprised. Just as no one had expected him to defect in the first place, no one expected him to die. Xie Wuwei was powerful, so powerful that almost no one could do a thing against him.
Yet he had died, inside his own residence. The enforcers sent to capture him found his corpse: his expression was calm, with a faint smile at the corners of his lips. Only his neck bore a glaring red mark, with blood winding down in a steady trickle, like a meandering stream that had ceased to flow. Everyone present turned pale with shock.
No one had anticipated Xie Wuwei’s death. Even Jiang Tan, who had always been at odds with him, had thoughtfully prepared extra tea and pastries in his sedan chair before setting off. It wasn’t that the refreshments were meant for Xie Wuwei, but watching Xie Wuwei meet a miserable end certainly called for a cup of clear tea.
Yet Xie Wuwei had died nonetheless.
In the end, Jiang Tan never touched that pot of tea.
Naturally, while the mortal world was in an uproar, Xie Wuwei accepted his fate quite well. At his own funeral, he even offered constructive critiques on the various dishes served.
Although hardly anyone showed up, the deceased himself was quite satisfied. After all, given that he had been a traitor, it was already remarkable that they hadn’t just thrown him into an unceremonious ditch. To actually land a proper funeral was a luxury, so what more could he ask for?
As a human, the most important thing was to be content. What happened in life stayed in life; he couldn’t be bothered to care.
Sitting idly on his grave, Xie Wuwei had no neighbors to chat with, so he could only toss a bronze mirror from his waist to play with, talking to himself as he caught it.
“Master still cares about me after all, letting me be buried here in Tianyan Palace.”
The bronze mirror in his hand abruptly started speaking. “What are you going to do next?”
The mirror looked like a regular, albeit pretty, bronze mirror. Inscribed upon it were the characters: Seeing the light of day, the world shall be bright. This mirror was counted among Xie Wuwei’s crimes. In the eyes of outsiders, Xie Wuwei had stolen it. Now bound to his soul, it could pop out and offer commentary whether Xie Wuwei was dead or alive.
Xie Wuwei’s hand jerked, and with a loud clatter, he nearly knocked the bronze mirror against his tombstone. “You really can talk, can’t you? That’s a bit terrifying.”
Ignoring him, the mirror continued, “You may retain your unbound soul, but if you wish to return to the mortal realm, you must hurry.”
“Let’s just leave it at that for now.”
Perched atop the tombstone, wearing the same clothes he had died in, with dried bloodstains near the cuffs like mottled butterfly wings, Xie Wuwei had looked full of lively spirit just moments before. Now, his bangs drooped to shadow his brows, obscuring his expression. After a long pause, he muttered, “Everything I needed to do is done. I want to rest.”
The mirror spoke up again. “You genuinely want to die.”
Xie Wuwei did not answer.
Over the past two days, besides delightfully savoring Tianyan Palace’s signature offerings, Xie Wuwei had simply slept deeply and tried to visit his master in a dream, though unfortunately, that attempt had failed.
On the whole, life after death was much more comfortable than that period before he died; it was just a bit boring.
The name Tianyan Palace sounded grand, but in reality, it consisted only of Master and Xie Wuwei. Even if the chickens, ducks, and small cat they kept were included, all living creatures could be counted on two hands.
Naturally, his status as the Young Palace Master held very little actual weight, and his jurisdiction was limited to the chickens, ducks, and kitten.
Right now, Xie Wuwei was so bored he could only sit on the tombstone counting tree leaves or watching ants move their home. Once the moon reached its zenith, he planned to find a comfortable posture and go to sleep.
The mountain where Tianyan Palace stood was called Qianqian Deng (A Thousand Lamps). The name sounded poetic, and the scenery was indeed quite lovely, especially at night, when countless fireflies created an ethereal, heaven-spanning illusion that blurred the boundary between earth and sky.
Just as Xie Wuwei comfortably lay back to enjoy the scenery, he suddenly sensed a faint disturbance in the distance.
What’s going on? He raised his head to look around.
The back mountain was barren, with only his single grave. Even his burial goods were meager, and Tianyan Palace was so poor that mushrooms grew on its roof. Chasing wealth in Tianyan Palace’s territory was a lost cause, so were they going to break in just to steal a warehouse full of dried mushrooms?
As the figure slowly drew closer, Xie Wuwei frowned. Why is it him?
Recognizing the intruder, Xie Wuwei lost his leisurely, detached composure. He flipped himself upright in a flash, baring his teeth in a vicious grimace as he glared at the newcomer.
It was Jiang Tan, the Taiyi Sect Leader who had chased and fought him for four years. He recognized him instantly from his posture and gait. What on earth was he doing running out to the desolate wilderness of Tianyan Palace in the middle of the night?
Vigilant in his heart, Xie Wuwei slowly sat back down on the tombstone and quietly watched him approach.
“Do you have a grudge against him?” the mirror asked out of nowhere.
“Our relationship isn’t exactly great, to put it mildly,” Xie Wuwei replied casually. Seeing Jiang Tan walk in his direction, he stopped worrying, sat cross-legged on the tombstone, and swung his legs lazily to see what Jiang Tan was up to.
I don’t know what powerful magical artifact he used to slip right past the barrier without triggering it, but visiting me in the dead of night surely isn’t to pay his respects.
Did you bring incense and paper money? I still want pastries. If the offerings aren’t to my liking, I’ll haunt your bed tonight and scare you half to death.
Hmph. Xie Wuwei tilted his head and blew a stray lock of hair from his cheek.
Then, he watched as Jiang Tan pulled a shovel out from behind his back.
Xie Wuwei was dumbfounded.
Surely not. Our grudge isn’t that deep, is it?
Digging up a grave… Is he planning to desecrate the corpse?
No, please! I thought the deceased deserved peace. Incense and paper money would have been fine, so hurry up and put that shovel away! What are you even trying to do?
Master! Where is Master? Save me! Your only disciple is about to be dug up and beaten!
Xie Wuwei clutched his head in a breakdown.
Turns out the most important rule of being human is to make sure nobody desecrates your corpse after you die.
Jiang Tan began turning over the fresh soil beneath his feet.
Even while bending over, the sect leader’s back remained as straight as a ruler, and he even wielded a shovel as if he were holding a sword.
Having been buried only recently and followed by a bout of rain, the soil was moist, soft, and easy to dig. Before long, the gold-inlaid vermilion coffin lid was exposed. Standing outside the pit, Jiang Tan leaped down with agile grace, leaned over, and set to work opening the coffin.
The nails on the coffin were pried loose, and the lid was pushed back slowly, revealing a pale face. The features were indeed exquisite and fair like jade, and even without color in death, he retained a breathtaking, soul-stirring beauty, though it was now tinged with a chilling, ghostly aura.
Standing beside the casket, Jiang Tan’s fingers brushed against the mud. His demeanor seemed different from usual, and lowering his gaze, he stared intently at the person inside the coffin before leaning down to sweep Xie Wuwei up in a horizontal embrace.
His movements were a bit too hurried, knocking off the jade hairpin that bound Xie Wuwei’s hair. A cascade of raven-black hair tumbled loose. Frowning slightly, Jiang Tan gathered the strands back up to keep them from trailing into the mud.
Stunned into speechlessness, Xie Wuwei watched from the sidelines, his mind flooded with chaotic, ridiculous thoughts: If Jiang Tan digs me out, this coffin is going to be left vacant. Such a fine coffin must have been quite pricey; I wonder if I could sell it secondhand to recoup a bit of money for Master? Though who on earth would buy a secondhand coffin anyway?
By this time, Jiang Tan had already calmly buried the coffin back up, even patting down an extra layer of dirt on top.
Xie Wuwei’s physical body was placed upright on the stone slab in front of the tomb, leaning against the tombstone. Once Jiang Tan finished tidying up the site, he turned back, wrapped the body in his outer robe, hoisted it over his shoulder, and carried it away. The entire process was smooth, decisive, and without a single moment of hesitation.
He’s actually just taking me away.
Is that yours just because you picked it up? Is this really how noble immortal clans operate?
Is it easy for me to even have a grave? And you still come and dig it up! Have you no shame?
Speechless and exasperated, Xie Wuwei couldn’t help but feel curious: What on earth does Jiang Tan want with a corpse?
Is he planning to use it for dark sorcery?
Surely a guy like Jiang Tan wouldn’t stoop to that.
Biting his teeth in bitter resentment, Xie Wuwei glared at Jiang Tan’s retreating back and followed along. With a mischievous urge, he drifted close and softly blew a breath against the back of Jiang Tan’s neck.
Sect Leader Jiang, a male ghost is coming home with you.