He Jiafeng Yi possessed a deceptively frail physique, yet harbored a mouth that, once commenced, seemed incapable of cessation. It was as though every ounce of his body's vitality had been sacrificed to his silver tongue, rendering the dignified Imperial Preceptor as gossipy as a street fortuneteller.
Indeed, after maintaining silence for merely a moment and rounding a corner, he recommenced his endless rambling. "Several months ago, you requested I investigate his background. I devoted considerable effort to research, then suddenly the trail vanished. Now that he has returned to court, I observed him briefly—ah! The ghostly aura surrounding him and the curse binding you both burned incredibly bright. I pondered this puzzle at considerable length, but upon witnessing his reaction when he seized your hand, comprehension struck suddenly—those four characters: 'troubled by love.'"
He Si Mu raised her eyes to observe the bustling pedestrians traversing the street. Had she desired to avoid unnecessary panic, she would have immediately erased He Jiafeng Yi from existence.
When would the path to the Imperial Preceptor's residence finally conclude?
"Naturally, this possesses nothing to do with me. Given your composed demeanor earlier, you clearly rejected him, so this too concerns you not. I noticed him conversing with that young lady upstairs—they formed such a perfect coupling, chatting with such evident happiness, already presumably in love. I imagined he would soon forget you, this over-four-hundred-year-old woman… experienced woman, and surrender himself entirely to that beauty's embrace."
Before He Jiafeng Yi could complete his speech, the walking stick in his grasp evaporated into thin air. He stumbled forward, then discovered the identical cane pressed against his throat.
He Si Mu leveled the staff at him with a smile. "Care to elaborate further?"
He Jiafeng Yi obediently complied. "Venerable ancestor, sometimes truth demands hearing."
"What truth have you articulated?"
"Which statement proves untrue? Aren't you over four hundred years old?"
"They merely met and exchanged polite pleasantries as strangers. You deliberately called me forth and fabricated exaggerations to stir trouble. Who instructed you in such gossiping?"
He Jiafeng Yi suddenly experienced revelation. "Oh! They aren't actually in love—so that's the genuine concern!"
"…"
He Jiafeng Yi snapped his fingers, and the walking stick returned to his palm. Leaning upon it, he sighed profoundly. "Venerable ancestor, how could you steal from an infirm person?"
He Si Mu contemplated whether perhaps He Jiafeng Yi's soul fire had been consumed by her in some previous incarnation, with he now collecting such debt in this one.
With forced pleasantness, she said, "You certainly possess eloquence. I presume you have completed the tasks I assigned? Should you prove unable to apprehend the Lord of the Wenshen Ghost Palace promptly, I shall summon ghost soldiers to search the imperial palace for him."
He Jiafeng Yi immediately straightened his demeanor and tilted his umbrella toward her. "Such measures prove unnecessary, truly. Our private relationship represents one matter entirely, yet I remain, after all, the Imperial Preceptor consuming the emperor's provisions. Permitting a garrison of evil ghosts into Southern Capital would constitute grave dereliction of duty, would it not? Rest assured, I have already ascertained his whereabouts."
"If such knowledge exists, what compels your delay?"
"Venerable ancestor, this is Southern Capital—the very heart of Great Liang, where mortal relationships interweave with incomparable intricacy. Disturb one thread and the entire tapestry unravels; unlike border settlements or ghost realms where action proceeds unrestricted. Venerable ancestor, I mean no criticism, yet I frequently sense you govern as Ghost King with excessive simplicity and directness. Political maneuvers and counterbalances escape your employment. Fortunately, your magical prowess proves so formidable—somehow you have persevered successfully across three centuries."
He Si Mu halted her progression, offered a soft chuckle, and turned her head. "Would you prefer to govern instead?"
Upon observing the blue luminescence emanating from the Ghost King's lantern suspended at her waist, He Jiafeng Yi smiled genuinely. "I would gladly serve as your loyal dog or horse, but regrettably I possess excessive open-mindedness to transform into an evil ghost. I can accomplish more while yet living. Rest assured, I shall select an auspicious day to address this matter with proper ceremony."
After years without encountering him, He Jiafeng Yi's peculiar tendencies had genuinely proliferated—now even ghost-capture required auspicious day selection.
Observing He Si Mu's impatient expression, He Jiafeng Yi immediately adopted a fragile countenance, furrowing his pale brows as he explained, "For a formidable evil ghost like the Lord of the Wenshen Ghost Palace, those indolent sorcerers beneath my command naturally cannot manage. Personal intervention becomes necessary. Yet venerable ancestor, you comprehend my physical condition—I must select a moment when ghost energy diminishes and spiritual energy ascends. Otherwise, should my already limited lifespan reduce further and my health deteriorate catastrophically, what becomes my fate?"
As He Si Mu observed He Jiafeng Yi deliver this speech with theatrical earnestness despite his pallid features, she reflected that fortune-telling proved far too humble a vocation—perhaps he should pursue storytelling instead. He would likely become Great Liang's most celebrated narrator.
Upon finally reaching the Imperial Preceptor's residence, they stepped beneath the eaves. Zi Ji at last offered her first utterance of the day. "Umbrella."
He Jiafeng Yi pivoted and transferred the closed umbrella to her, while the serene, elegant beauty arranged it neatly alongside others in the corridor.
Surveying the Imperial Preceptor's residence, every element maintained extraordinary order—no hint of disarray existed. Tables, chairs, and furnishings stood meticulously positioned. Should any object shift even fractionally, Zi Ji would promptly discover and restore it. Even broken plates found identical replacements. From He Si Mu's recent observations, Zi Ji possessed considerable physical strength.
These master and servant formed quite a pairing—one possessed an unceasing tongue, the other spoke minimally; one appeared perpetually disheveled, the other maintained flawless arrangement; one possessed fragile constitution, the other manifested robust vitality.
He Si Mu contemplated that wherever He Jiafeng Yi had procured this maidservant, they truly constituted an ideal match.
He Jiafeng Yi's jest proved unfounded. After suffering rain-soaking, Duan Xu remained vigorous. Following several days of rest, he exchanged his garments for fresh navy-blue silk, selected lavish gifts with deliberate care, and spiritedly visited Wang Su Yi to apologize profusely.
Wang Su Yi experienced considerable astonishment upon witnessing such magnificent gifts and insisted no formality proved necessary. Her mother had already explained that Duan Xu had been pursuing criminals that day—national obligations naturally superseded social courtesy.
Yet Duan Xu shook his head resolutely. "I pursued no criminals that day. I glimpsed a woman I admired."
Wang Su Yi froze, her thoughts immediately shifting. Did Duan Xu already harbor another's image in his heart—was he presenting these extravagant gifts as rejection of the Wang family? Such matters traditionally fell to his father, not his personal responsibility.
Then she heard Duan Xu continue, "Miss Wang, are you acquainted with the arrangements between your honorable father and mine? Regarding marriage in this capital, few families exist—choices remain limited."
Duan Xu spoke with refreshing candor, and Wang Su Yi nodded her understanding.
Duan Xu smiled warmly. "Then, Miss Wang—would you consent to marry me?"
Wang Su Yi regarded Duan Xu with profound confusion and disbelief.
Beneath the bright early summer sunlight, the young man's smile radiated warmth and his expression conveyed genuine sincerity, yet he remained an impenetrable wall—impossible to decipher.
"Let us converse," he said gently.
Previously, Wang Su Yi's comprehension of Duan Xu extended merely to his reputation—the celebrated Third Young Master of the Duan family, elegant, accomplished in literature, skilled in horsemanship and archery. According to her unreliable brother, Duan Xu possessed excellent temperament and cheerful disposition; he had never witnessed anyone so enamored with smiling. Yet after a single day's acquaintance, one gained impressions identical to those accumulated over a year—somewhat monotonous and impenetrable.
Perhaps her brother had failed to perceive that this reflected not dullness, but rather that he had never truly comprehended Duan Xu, nor could she.
News of the Duan-Wang engagement propagated swiftly through Southern Capital's official circles, becoming fashionable gossip among prominent families. General Duan, previously the most sought-after bachelor among the capital's young ladies, prompted countless sighs of feminine regret. Wang Su Yi, meanwhile, enjoyed renowned status as a celebrated beauty. In others' estimation, considering their backgrounds, talents, and appearances, no incompatibility existed between these two.
Naturally, such news reached the Imperial Preceptor's residence as well. He Jiafeng Yi reclined contentedly while disciples administered shoulder and leg massage, meanwhile savoring a bowl of white fungus soup with red dates—a scene of leisurely self-indulgence. As he consumed his meal, he remarked, "Venerable ancestor, did I not tell you? They're genuinely in love, aren't they?"
He Si Mu stood beside the desk with sleeves raised, painting roses and banana leaves with meticulous focus. She had instructed Zi Ji to prepare ivory white and emerald green pigments in advance. Unable to perceive colors with conventional sight, she painted through sensation alone. Just as He Jiafeng Yi finished speaking, she completed the composition, deliberately ignoring him.
Upon witnessing her continued disregard, He Jiafeng Yi waved his disciples away and wandered to her side. Observing the painting, he exclaimed, "Venerable ancestor, I frequently sense you're more human than I am. Zi Ji, come observe—how could roses and banana leaves receive such coloration from a ghost perceiving colors differently? It proves impossible!"
Zi Ji, grinding ink, glanced briefly at the painting and offered single syllable. "Beautiful."
He Si Mu set down her brush and spoke with cold amusement. "That likely derives from your exceptional laziness and ignorance, combined with inadequate effort. You cannot even become a proper human."
He Jiafeng Yi recognized her reference to childhood painting lessons, when he had fabricated excuses daily, refusing practice, until even his talismans had become aesthetically offensive to her standards.
He Jiafeng Yi laughed heartily and immediately changed direction. "But honestly, for our poor young General Duan, whether they're in love matters little. He can only marry according to his family's and faction's wishes."
He Si Mu offered him a sidelong glance accompanied by soft laughter, offering no immediate comment. He Jiafeng Yi detected disagreement within that expression and assumed respectful listening posture. "What's this? Does the venerable ancestor hold different opinion?"
"You do not understand Duan Xu."
"Then, if one truly understands him, how should one perceive this arrangement?"
He Si Mu waved her hand above the painting to accelerate ink drying and spoke calmly. "He excels at performing compliance, yet no one can compel him toward action contrary to his will. He will not marry someone he lacks affection for. That young woman must possess something touching his heart—some ability enabling achievement of his aspirations. He would never disadvantage himself."
Observing her tranquil expression and measured tone, He Jiafeng Yi asked with rare earnestness. "Venerable ancestor—he is marrying, you are losing him. Does this not cause sadness?"
He recognized that He Si Mu had harbored many mortal lovers throughout history, yet he had failed to meet any—they had all passed before his birth.
From his accumulated experience, he had never witnessed He Si Mu display such patience and comprehension toward other mortals. For evil ghosts, understanding humanity proved difficult—akin to someone perceiving colors differently attempting to paint. His venerable ancestor served as the human world's guardian, yet lacked leisure to understand every tree and leaf.
"He matters to me," He Si Mu paused momentarily, then smiled with unexpected gentleness. "Perhaps sorrow will emerge, yet sadness endures only the briefest span—shorter even than his fleeting mortal existence."
He Jiafeng Yi remained quiet momentarily, contemplating how his venerable ancestor's emotions possessed genuine complexity. He sighed and returned to his chair to recline. Raising his hand to reveal his thin arm, after performing dizzying calculations with his fingers, he pronounced, "Unfortunately, I perceive Duan Xu has incurred recent misfortune. Court upheaval approaches, and this marriage will encounter numerous obstacles. He will not survive to the auspicious day I designated. Venerable ancestor, are you truly certain you do not wish to steal the bride instead?"
He Si Mu replied with genuine affection. "Get lost."
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