Chapter 11: Sister Mei

On the morning of the fifteenth day, mournful music filled the air. Di Jiang and her two companions were confined to a side room, forbidden from leaving.

“What’s happening outside?” Di Jiang lay on the bed, turning her head to look at Wen Yao, who was crouched by the window.

“So many people! All guards!” Wen Yao stretched her neck to peek out, catching glimpses through cracks in the window.

Shuxiang munched on sunflower seeds and calmly remarked, “The Empress must have arrived.”

Di Jiang slapped her forehead. “Of course! A mother would naturally come to visit her sick son!”

Thus, with the Empress’s arrival, all irrelevant personnel were ordered to step back—including Di Jiang and other folk healers and practitioners summoned from the common folk.

In the eyes of those in power, they were unworthy of being seen or acknowledged.

The confinement order ended before noon. It was said that the Empress grieved for half a day by Prince Ru’an’s bedside before departing due to state affairs. With her departure went all the monks, nuns, and even the imperial physicians. In their place came white mourning banners and an enormous coffin made of golden-threaded nanmu wood, large enough to hold thirty people, placed in the front courtyard.

Even the Empress had given up on her son.

“This illness is too strange,” the steward, tears streaming down his face, lamented to Di Jiang.

Before Di Jiang could respond, Wen Yao interjected, “If we can find the cause, there might still be hope.”

“Really?” The steward’s eyes lit up.

Di Jiang shook her head. “Don’t listen to Wen Yao’s nonsense.”

“Boss...” Wen Yao looked aggrieved.

Di Jiang quickly scolded her: “Can you explain it clearly? Even I don’t know the cause—how could you?”

“Is there really no hope?” Wen Yao asked hopefully.

“No!” Di Jiang replied firmly.

Seeing that Wen Yao was speaking without substance, the steward ignored them both, turning away while his body trembled uncontrollably.

“Steward Liu, don’t be too upset. Perhaps there’s still a chance...” Wen Yao patted his back comfortingly.

Unexpectedly, her words only made Steward Liu cry harder.

Di Jiang had heard from Wen Yao before that Steward Liu Changqing was one of the late emperor’s personal eunuchs. He had watched Prince Ru’an grow up and had been caring for him ever since he became the Prince of Wu and received his mansion. Now, seeing the younger generation pass before the elder was undoubtedly heartbreaking.

But as the saying goes, the moon waxes and wanes, and life has its joys and sorrows—everything happens according to fate. Having witnessed so much, Di Jiang didn’t feel particularly tormented.

Now that the chanting of monks had ceased, the silence was a relief. Unlike ordinary people, Di Jiang, accustomed to witnessing life and death, knew what was useful and what wasn’t.

In the evening, an unexpected visitor barged in.

Not exaggerating—he literally forced his way in.

Steward Liu and Wen Yao were still keeping vigil by Prince Ru’an’s bedside when a series of shattering roof tiles echoed. Turning around, they saw Zhong Xu descending directly from the roof, holding a woman—the possessed Princess Zhaohe, Wu Jingyi.

Everyone, including the soul of Wu Jingyi lingering in the corner, was startled by this sudden turn of events. Upon landing, Zhong Xu used a spirit-binding lock to bind Sister Mei tightly and toss her onto the ground. His actions were simple, brutal, and showed no mercy.

“Princess!” Steward Liu nearly fainted from shock, scrambling toward her. But before he could touch her, a sword blocked his path.

“The person inside this body isn’t your princess,” Zhong Xu coldly stated.

For some reason, Di Jiang couldn’t help but chuckle at his words—”your princess.” Unable to suppress a smile, she let it slip.

“Why are you here?” Zhong Xu noticed Di Jiang, his expression questioning.

Di Jiang pointed to the medicine box beside her: “I’m here to treat Prince Wu.”

Zhong Xu nodded and turned his attention elsewhere, pointing his sword at Sister Mei. “Undo the curse on Prince Ru’an quickly, or I’ll make your soul disperse!”

“Hmph, what do I care about dispersing?” A trickle of blood ran down Sister Mei’s lips as she laughed. “I’ve already abandoned my own life—do you think I fear being killed again?”

“If you refuse my offer, don’t blame me!” Zhong Xu raised his sword, ready to strike. Di Jiang hurriedly stepped in front of him. “Master Zhong, have you lost your mind? How dare you kill Princess Zhaohe?”

“This isn’t Princess Zhaohe—it’s a wandering soul!” Zhong Xu glared at her.

“What’s a wandering soul?” Di Jiang feigned ignorance.

“It’s the spirit of the dead, lingering in the world because of unresolved grievances. Step aside! If we miss the midnight hour, it’ll be too late!”

While Di Jiang and Zhong Xu exchanged words, Sister Mei and Wu Jingyi began to converse.

“If I say I haven’t harmed the prince, will you believe me?” Sister Mei gazed at Wu Jingyi, her voice melancholic.

“...”

Wu Jingyi stared into her eyes for a long moment before nodding. “I believe you.”

“Then tell him to release me, or you’ll regret it!” Sister Mei struggled fiercely, but Zhong Xu’s binding spell wasn’t something easily broken.

Concerned that Sister Mei’s struggles might harm Wu Jingyi’s body, Di Jiang nudged Zhong Xu. “Master Zhong, please release her. No matter who resides within, this body belongs to Princess Zhaohe!”

“Yes, yes, please show mercy, Master!” Steward Liu pleaded, fearing any harm might come to the princess’s body.

At this point, Wu Jingyi’s soul in the corner also nodded. “Please release her, Master.”

Zhong Xu glanced at everyone and sneered, “Sentimental fools!” Then, with a wave of his hand, he loosened the bindings on Sister Mei.

Afterward, Zhong Xu turned to Wu Jingyi and swung his wooden sword between the two of them. Instantly, the body of Wu Jingyi, possessed by Sister Mei, went limp and collapsed. When she opened her eyes again, her gaze was cold, proud, and defiant.

Wu Jingyi had returned to her body, while Sister Mei drifted nearby.

“Thank you for your assistance, Master,” Wu Jingyi said softly, her tone betraying no joy.

Di Jiang reflected silently. With her brother at a critical juncture between life and death, how could she possibly feel happy?

With her restraints removed, Sister Mei grew calmer. She floated quietly to the side, her gaze never leaving Prince Ru’an, whose life hung in the balance.

Once Wu Jingyi regained control of her body, she immediately moved to Ru’an’s bedside, sitting on the edge of the bed and gently stroking his face. Her sorrow was evident.

For a time, no one spoke. The atmosphere in the room plummeted to freezing levels.

No one knew how long it had been when Sister Mei suddenly addressed Wu Jingyi: “It’s true that I once took my own life out of shame and anger because of your words. But from the moment you willingly lent me your body that night, allowing me to spend more time with the prince, I stopped hating you.”

“What virtue or merit do I possess to have quelled your hatred?” Wu Jingyi’s expression softened slightly. To be honest, her heart was conflicted. In the past, she feared her momentary compassion had allowed Ruan Qingmei to harm her brother. Now, seeing Ruan Qingmei’s demeanor, she worried she had wronged her again.

Sister Mei ignored her sarcasm and continued: “I admit, I once hated you deeply. In the days after my death, I harbored resentment, and my spirit lingered outside the mansion. But the royal aura protected the mansion, and I couldn’t enter. One day, the Grand Master visited, and I overheard him talking with his disciple in his carriage. That’s how I learned that Prince Ru’an faces a fatal calamity. To save him, someone must willingly sacrifice their life, and that person must stay by his side, naturally absorbing his essence.”

“So...” Wu Jingyi’s eyes widened, as if she had guessed seven or eight parts of the truth.

At this moment, everyone in the room shared a similar reaction. Zhong Xu looked puzzled, Di Jiang appeared slightly surprised, and even Wen Yao was filled with sympathy.

“Don’t laugh at me—I despised you, but I truly loved the prince.” Sister Mei’s bitter smile carried a tinge of self-mockery. Shrugging, she continued: “Prince Ru’an moves through countless blossoms yet remains untouched. To stay by his side for a long time, apart from you, his biological sister, no one else could do it. So, on the day you tried on your wedding gown, I followed the carriage of Night Fragrance Master into the palace. I originally planned to seize your body, but unexpectedly, you could see me. I lied, telling you I wanted to borrow your body to bid farewell to Ru’an and hold him one last time... I thought you’d refuse, but you agreed almost immediately!”

Ruan Qingmei sighed. “At that time, you were about to marry, yet you weren’t afraid I wouldn’t return your body.”

At this point, Wu Jingyi gave a self-deprecating smile. “That day, I had just finished sewing my wedding gown, but I also learned that he had broken off our engagement. My fate carries misfortune—I was born with ghostly sight, able to see things others cannot. For me, leaving that body wasn’t necessarily a bad thing...”

Upon hearing this, Di Jiang was startled.

Ghostly sight meant living in constant fear for mortals. Walking down the street, one could be frightened by ghosts; sleeping, one was more prone to sleep paralysis. Even using the restroom was more difficult than for others. During Ghost Festival, when the gates of hell opened, one could imagine how unbearable it must be. Despite her high status as a princess, her life was worse than that of ordinary people. Yet she hadn’t gone mad, showing remarkable resilience.

Di Jiang’s admiration for Wu Jingyi grew further.

“But why did you imprison me in the convent and provoke Zhong Xu to kill me?!” Suddenly, Wu Jingyi turned sharply, glaring at Ruan Qingmei.

“I simply didn’t want anyone interfering with my plan.” Ruan Qingmei glanced faintly at Di Jiang.

Di Jiang remained calm and unruffled.

“How could I possibly stop you from saving my brother? If sacrificing myself could save him, I’d gladly give my life!”

“I assumed you were a lofty princess. Even though you and the prince shared affection, I never imagined you’d sacrifice yourself for him. After all, you were already engaged to General Long. No matter how good a brother is, could you really abandon the general? As for the later broken engagement, that’s another story.” Sister Mei’s gaze held a trace of sympathy.

“Have you considered whether the prince could live peacefully knowing you saved his life at the cost of his beloved sister’s?”

“He’ll never know.” Ruan Qingmei smiled, her expression relaxed and carefree.

Everyone present could see that her eyes held only Wu Ru’an. As long as she could save him, she cared nothing for others’ lives.

This was a woman driven mad by love, yet also one who stopped at nothing.

“Do you know why I like Long Ming?” Wu Jingyi suddenly changed the topic.

“Why?” Wen Yao eagerly responded first, her curiosity piqued.

This question intrigued everyone, including Di Jiang. Why would she fall for a young general of humble origins whom she had never met? Surely there were others more outstanding, eager to marry her.

“Five years ago, during the night of the hundred ghosts, I fell into the water and was saved by Long Ming,” Wu Jingyi sighed deeply. “Since childhood, my ghostly sight caused me daily torment. Later, I discovered that whenever I stayed near Long Ming, I couldn’t see ghosts. At the time, he was just a martial arts apprentice—poor but full of passion for life. That was happiness I had never known. Those half months were the most peaceful days of my life.”

“What happened afterward?” Wen Yao asked.

“After returning to the palace, it became inconvenient for me to leave. I often sent Liu Zhi to assist him, but over time, they fell in love. I became the one who ruined their relationship. Later events, I’m sure you’ve heard—my engagement was annulled, making me the biggest laughingstock in the nation. What more is there to say?”

“It’s my fault.” At this moment, Sister Mei spoke softly.

“What does this have to do with you?”

“If you hadn’t lent me your body that day, perhaps you’d still have a chance to explain things to him.”

“Explain?” Wu Jingyi laughed bitterly. “Explain what? Should I compete with my maid for a man? Or should I become his concubine alongside her? Or break them apart and take her place just for temporary peace of mind?”

“I refuse.” Wu Jingyi’s expression was proud, free of any hint of scheming or deceit.