A cold, murderous intent spread through the ancestral hall. Miao Shuang, bearing that gaze that seemed as if it could flay a person alive, lowered his head and kissed him on the lips.
The pale, chapped lips had been chilled cold by the gloomy rain, but one taste was enough to know — the inside of his mouth was still scorching hot.
The instant his lips were kissed, Qi Yan’s whole body stiffened involuntarily, shock flashing through his eyes — what place was this? The Qi family’s ancestral hall. Even though he knew Miao Shuang had no sense of shame to speak of, he hadn’t expected this man to be so brazen as to dare kiss him right here in the ancestral hall.
The memorial tablets of the ancestors sat silent in the darkness. An indescribable disgust and humiliated fury rose up in him in an instant — whether from anger or something else, he didn’t know — a thread of crimson crept up to the tips of Qi Yan’s ears. Instinctively he wanted to push the other man away, but his five fingers were seized and pinned down instead.
Ice-cold fingers forced their way between his, interlocking. This Miao person must have used some kind of witchcraft — just a light stroke across his wrist, and the tendons in his hand, which had already been faintly aching, instantly went numb and sore, completely refusing to obey him.
What little capacity for resistance he’d had left was now mostly stripped away. Qi Yan’s brows knotted tightly; he wished he could bite clean through that tongue in his mouth, as nimble and slippery as a snake.
The intense hostility made the kiss turn fierce and bloody. Pain only excited Miao Shuang further — he didn’t mind at all that Qi Yan was leaving wounds on him.
His thumb pressed and ground against the other man’s Adam’s apple again. Qi Yan, already breathless from being kissed, now found himself nearly suffocating under this added pressure. The pain and the sensation of nearing death made his scalp prickle — yet, bizarrely, he also found it felt somewhat good.
……
He must have gone mad.
Just moments ago he’d been kneeling before his ancestors, confessing his guilt, and now he’d turned around to kiss a man so fiercely, so inseparably.
The bitter, briny taste of blood mixed with saliva was forced down his throat; the tangled breathing between them grew scorching hot. Qi Yan’s left hand — the only one still able to move — slowly rose and gripped the other man’s waist, clutching at his clothes and crushing them into deep wrinkles.
Inside the dim ancestral hall, the spirit tablets stood solemn, flickering candlelight casting faint glimmers upon them, as if silently watching.
A sudden sound of footsteps made the tips of Miao Shuang’s ears twitch slightly.
He had heard it — and naturally, so had Qi Yan. The arm wrapped around his waist suddenly tightened its grip with force.
Miao Shuang clicked his tongue. He had already been in a foul mood, and just when he’d worked up some interest kissing Qi Yan, someone had to interrupt — irritation piling on irritation. Without giving the man surnamed Qi any chance to push him away, he urged the Gu worm inside Qi Yan’s body to its fullest extent.
A sharp pain erupted within his body, already surpassing the limits of what a human could endure. Qi Yan’s vision went black; he couldn’t even make a sound before passing out cold.
Holding up the man who collapsed into his arms, Miao Shuang lifted his head just as the footsteps reached the doorway, and saw Lai Fu — one hand holding up a lantern, the other brandishing a broom for self-defense — putting on a trembling show of bravado. “Who — who’s there, playing tricks with ghosts and spirits?!”
Miao Shuang: “……”
Kissing in the ancestral hall really hadn’t been a wise decision — next time he’d have to remember to shut the door.
He gave the man a languid glance, his blood-red eyes eerie and uncanny in the dim light.
Lai Fu was so startled he flung the lantern away — then, realizing something, hastily scooped it back up, mustered his courage to look again, and let out a long breath of relief. “Madam, why are you here? You nearly scared this servant to death!”
He had gotten up in the middle of the night to relieve himself, but had heard a strange noise coming from somewhere unknown. Searching here and there, he had ended up finding his way to the ancestral hall — and with the deep night, the cold rain, and the wind moaning mournfully, it was hard not to let one’s imagination run wild.
Miao Shuang sneered. “Grown man like you, still afraid of ghosts?”
Lai Fu rubbed his nose, looking embarrassed. “This servant isn’t afraid of ghosts, exactly — it’s just that too many people have died unjustly in this household. Coming to this ancestral hall in the dead of night, this servant still couldn’t help but…”
“Died unjustly?” Miao Shuang narrowed his eyes. “You think the Qi family is innocent?”
Lai Fu startled violently and dropped to his knees with a thud. “This servant misspoke! This servant spoke out of turn!”
“Just an idle question, no need to be so tense,” Miao Shuang didn’t pursue the topic further. “Alright, hurry up and help me get him up — have some sense.”
In truth he would rather have hauled Qi Yan up himself, but the man was far too tall, and even having wasted away to this degree, he was still dead weight — not easy to get him into the wheelchair alone.
Miao Shuang looked at him with disdain.
Only half a person left and still this heavy — might as well have cut off those useless, crippled legs of his too.
Lai Fu raised his head and only now noticed Qi Yan, who had been blocked from view by the wheelchair before. He was startled again. “What happened to the General?”
“What do you think happened,” Miao Shuang snorted irritably. “Overexerted himself and knocked himself out.”
Lai Fu’s pupils trembled with shock. “K-knocked himself out?!”
In the — in the ancestral hall?!
The hand holding the lantern shook slightly as he brought it a bit closer, peering intently — and there, he saw the Madam’s mouth corner, bitten raw, and his somewhat disheveled, deeply wrinkled robes…
Lai Fu swallowed hard.
Stiffly, he turned his head to look again at the neatly arranged memorial tablets of the Qi ancestors.
Could it be… that the General… really wasn’t wronged after all?
Miao Shuang, having waited quite a while without receiving any help, was already growing impatient, and was just about to speak when he saw Lai Fu’s face full of terror and suspicion, as if something inside him had shattered.
Miao Shuang raised an eyebrow, realizing the man had probably misunderstood something, but had no intention of explaining.
Lai Fu clutched at his own precariously teetering worldview and stepped forward to help support Qi Yan up and onto the wheelchair. Looking at the General, now fallen into unconsciousness, his feelings were a tangled mess.
His body already in such a state, and still indulging in such excess… was it really something he just had to do?
He silently murmured apologies to his ancestors’ tablets many times over, then finally blew out the candle and pushed the wheelchair out of the ancestral hall.
Watching the expressions shift back and forth across Lai Fu’s face, Miao Shuang couldn’t help but suppress a laugh; his irritable mood had improved considerably. He followed them back to the bedchamber, had Lai Fu settle Qi Yan properly, then dismissed him for the night.
After all that commotion, Miao Shuang now felt quite energized, with no trace of sleepiness. He tried once more to recall that memory, but still couldn’t remember anything more; his temples began to throb, so he gave up on it.
The sound of rain gradually faded, and the sky slowly brightened. Amid the chirping of morning birds, Miao Shuang finally fell asleep — but he had barely slept at all before being hurriedly woken again.
Being disturbed from his sleep was displeasing; he didn’t even open his eyes, just frowned and said, “What is it?”
Lai Fu lowered his voice. “Madam, Eunuch Zhu is here.”
Miao Shuang tugged at the corner of his mouth, uninterested. “Is it a cold-water bath today, or poison in the food?”
“Neither. He says he’s come to relay His Majesty’s verbal decree, summoning Madam into the palace.”
Miao Shuang’s eyes snapped open.
The third day after the wedding, and the Emperor had finally run out of patience.
A strange smile bloomed at the corner of his lips as he threw on his robes and rose. “Let’s go.”
****
Stepping into puddles not yet dried from the rain, Miao Shuang followed Eunuch Zhu into the palace.
The vermilion palace walls had been freshly washed clean by the autumn rain. Underfoot, a thin layer of rainwater lay over the smooth blue bricks, mirror-like, reflecting the entire palace.
The belated sun had not yet driven off the damp chill left by the rain. Miao Shuang tucked his hands into his sleeves; the white snake coiled around his forearm was too cold to want to move at all.
“Where is His Majesty now?” he asked.
“His Majesty is in the sleeping palace. It’s just ahead,” Eunuch Zhu gestured for him to go first.
The sleeping palace…
At this hour, not holding court?
Then again, the original novel had already said the Emperor was a dissolute, incompetent ruler — there was no way he held court every day. A court session once every ten days or half a month already counted as diligent. Most likely the Emperor was just resting today… that part of the content, admittedly, he hadn’t read very closely.
Court politics and all that — so far removed from people like them who cultivated immortality and demonhood — held no interest for him. Watching the seme and uke’s love-hate drama was far more entertaining.
Even though he’d already mentally prepared himself, upon actually seeing the Emperor in person, Miao Shuang still couldn’t help the corner of his mouth twitching.
The sleeping palace was burning with sickly-sweet incense. Before he’d even drawn close, he heard a round of silvery, bell-like laughter — a group of young palace maids were surrounding the Emperor, playing and teasing, all around fifteen or sixteen years of age, each one delicate and fresh as water.
The Emperor of Great Yong, Ji Yuan, was twenty-seven years old, his appearance rather possessing the handsome, noble air befitting royalty — but perhaps because Miao Shuang had read the original novel and held no good impression of him, that dragon-like aura struck him not as a true dragon’s, but like that of a hui-serpent disguised as one.
(tn: “虺” (huǐ) refers to a legendary venomous snake or small dragon-like serpent from Chinese mythology — often described as a small, poisonous snake that, according to legend, could transform into a dragon (蛟 jiāo) after a thousand years, and eventually into a true dragon (龍 lóng) after further transformation.)
He vaguely recalled that Ji Yuan had once been an unfavored son of the previous Emperor, born of a concubine, yet had won out in the bloody, vicious succession struggle through sheer ruthlessness and cunning. After ascending the throne, he had shown no mercy to his brothers and kin, exterminating them with methods so cruel they defied belief — it was said that during that period, the imperial city had been a mountain of corpses and a sea of blood, and the dark clouds hanging over the palace had not dispersed for months on end.
The only one who had survived was his youngest and most useless brother, whom Ji Yuan had “lovingly cared for” under a thin veneer of brotherly affection, raising him into a thoughtless, carefree wastrel.
The underfloor heating in the palace burned vigorously, leaving not the slightest trace of the chill brought by the rain outside. Ji Yuan was dressed lightly, his bare feet on the warm jade-stone floor, playing and laughing with the palace maids, seemingly entirely unaware of Miao Shuang’s presence.
Since he wasn’t looking this way, Miao Shuang didn’t speak either, merely stood there with a faint smile.
After being left standing for quite some time, Eunuch Zhu finally stepped forward to remind him. “Your Majesty, the Great Shaman has arrived.”
Ji Yuan took a bite of a pastry one of the little palace maids offered him, then drank a sip of tea held up by another maid’s hand, glanced up at Miao Shuang, and waved a hand for them to withdraw.
The maids filed out one after another, and the sleeping palace finally fell quiet. Ji Yuan sat down on the couch with great ease, instructing the little eunuch attending him to go put out the brazier. “How have these past two days been for the Great Shaman, newly married?”
Miao Shuang gave a perfunctory half-bow. “A marriage bestowed by Your Majesty — naturally it has been good.”
“How insolent!” Eunuch Zhu scolded. “In the presence of His Majesty, and you dare not kneel?!”
“Ah, there’s no need to stand on ceremony,” Ji Yuan waved a hand. “The Great Shaman is of the Miao people — it’s only understandable that he’s not accustomed to our Han customs of etiquette.”
Eunuch Zhu shot Miao Shuang a glare, then turned to fawn over the Emperor with a face full of flattering smiles. “Your Majesty is so magnanimous and benevolent, naturally not one to quibble with such an uncouth commoner.”
Miao Shuang arched an eyebrow slightly.
Magnanimous and benevolent?
Great Shaman, how fares the task Zhen entrusted to you?”?”
“This humble one has not failed what Your Majesty entrusted to him.”
Joy couldn’t help but rise to Ji Yuan’s brow, but Miao Shuang leisurely added the second half of his sentence. “I have already turned raw rice into cooked rice with General Qi — the General resists in words, but his body is quite honest. We fought fiercely half the night together, and it was truly gratifying.”
Ji Yuan: “……”
Eunuch Zhu: “……”
The Emperor’s brow twitched involuntarily, his expression darkening at once. “That is not what Zhen asked you.”
He fixed the man before him with a cold stare, forcing patience into his voice. “Have you managed to find out the whereabouts of the Sacred Gu?”
Miao Shuang: “Not yet.”
Ji Yuan’s fingers suddenly tightened around his teacup, ripples spreading across the surface of the clear tea.
Miao Shuang felt the pain in that very instant.
The white snake coiled around his arm tightened its grip on him, suffering the same agony alongside him — the taste of the Life Gu’s backlash cut to the bone. The Gu worm within his body stirred restlessly, falling into a terror as if facing imminent catastrophe.
Ji Yuan rubbed at the red mole on his wrist — the spot where a drop of the Gu King’s blood was sealed — and the frost on his face dissolved, his brows curving gently. “Is the Great Shaman jesting with Zhen?”
That smile alone was enough to make one’s hair stand on end; even Eunuch Zhu startled, hastily lowering his head.
Whenever His Majesty wore a smile like that, it meant he wanted someone dead.
The pain within his body grew more and more intense. Miao Shuang couldn’t help but silently curse the original novel’s plot — because he had offered up a drop of Life Gu blood, he was bound to absolute loyalty toward Ji Yuan; the slightest hint of a rebellious thought would trigger the Life Gu’s backlash, forcing him to endure the agony of ten thousand Gu devouring his heart.
But this bit of pain… compared to that sword Immortal Lord Bo Yan had once run him through with, it still fell far short.
His expression didn’t change. “Your Majesty’s men interrogated General Qi for three months without getting him to talk, yet gave this humble one only two days — isn’t that asking rather a lot?”
Only then did Ji Yuan’s expression ease somewhat; he sighed. “It is Zhen who has been too hasty.”
“But Zhen’s patience has its limits. Since the Great Shaman has sworn so confidently that he can make Qi Yan talk, why not give Zhen a deadline.”
Miao Shuang smiled with restraint. “This humble one cannot give one.”
“Your Majesty,” Eunuch Zhu said, gently massaging the Emperor’s shoulders, leaning in to murmur in his ear — not quite so quietly, though — “In this old servant’s view, this Great Shaman may well be deceiving Your Majesty. That day, this old servant was at the General’s residence the whole time, and saw him attending to General Qi with great care, yet never once heard him ask General Qi anything about the Sacred Gu.”
Ji Yuan raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”
Miao Shuang looked utterly puzzled. “Why would Eunuch Zhu say such a thing?”
Without waiting for an answer, he turned to address Ji Yuan instead. “Your Majesty, General Qi Yan endured three months of brutal interrogation without confessing anything — clearly a man of unyielding will. Ordinary methods were already useless, so this humble one thought to first grow close to him, to let him lower his guard. Not bringing up the Sacred Gu these past two days was precisely so as not to arouse his suspicion.”
“That day, when there was a dispute with Eunuch Zhu at the General’s residence, this humble one assumed it was by Your Majesty’s own decree, that Eunuch Zhu was meant to play along with me — I would defend the General, and the General would naturally believe I stood on his side.”
“Why is it, then, that Eunuch Zhu comes today to accuse me of wrongdoing instead? Could it be that I misunderstood his intentions?”
The moment these words left his mouth, Eunuch Zhu’s face changed at once. “Your Majesty, this old servant—”
Ji Yuan raised a hand to cut him off, his gaze deep and heavy, though his tone remained gentle as water. “But how can the Great Shaman be so certain that Qi Yan responds to gentleness rather than force? If, defending him as you have, you still fail to move him — what will you do then?”
“Has Your Majesty perhaps heard of a certain Gu, called the ‘Love Gu’? On our wedding night, I already planted it within him. Whoever is afflicted by this Gu will fall helplessly, uncontrollably in love with the one who planted it. The more intimately I engage with him, the deeper the Love Gu’s effect will take hold — until he is utterly devoted to me, body and soul laid bare before me. Never mind the mere whereabouts of the Sacred Gu — even if I told him to die, he would do so willingly, without the slightest hesitation.”
The smile in Ji Yuan’s eyes deepened. “The Great Shaman has indeed not disappointed Zhen.”
The intense pain had left Miao Shuang’s lips somewhat pale, but his tone remained steady. “Not only must I keep defending him — I must also heal his injuries—”
“That cannot be! Absolutely not, Your Majesty!” Eunuch Zhu was alarmed, still trying to dissuade him. “Your Majesty went to such great lengths to cripple Qi Yan’s martial arts, to turn him into a useless invalid — how can he be allowed to recover now? If he truly heals from his injuries, it will mean endless future trouble! Your Majesty, please reconsider!”
“What is the Eunuch rushing for — I haven’t finished speaking,” Miao Shuang said unhurriedly. “Though I will heal his injuries, I won’t use ordinary medical arts, but poison Gu — I will use Gu worms to reconnect his meridians, and since those Gu worms are under my control, even once his body heals, it will no longer belong to him. Combined with the Love Gu…”
As he spoke he took a step forward, meeting Ji Yuan’s gaze directly, a cruel and manic smile spreading across his face. “By then, Your Majesty could even send him back into battle to kill the enemy once more — only he would no longer be General Qi Yan at all, but a puppet on strings, belonging body and soul to you, and you alone.”