#44: Zhao Shu

Shi Luoyi had long prepared herself mentally for this day.

Seeing Hui Xiang’s sorrowful expression, she consoled her: “It’s fine. My father and I always knew the imperial city would change hands someday. Now that Southern Yue belongs to Zhao Shu, he does have the right to manage the palace. We’ll just take my mother’s portrait and leave. Staying in an inn will be just as good.”

Hui Xiang was worried that Shi Luoyi might feel hurt, as this place had been her childhood home. Seeing that Shi Luoyi didn’t seem particularly bothered, Hui Xiang felt somewhat reassured and nodded.

Shi Luoyi feared that the concubine inside might tear up her mother’s portrait, so she decided to retrieve it immediately.

She pushed open the door, catching the people inside off guard. All eyes turned toward her.

The room was brightly lit with candles. Beyond a screen lay a lavishly dressed young concubine reclining on a chaise lounge, her delicate hand playing with a pigeon-egg-sized pearl from the sea spirits.

This pearl had belonged to Princess Wan Qian. After abolishing the law that enslaved the sea spirit race, Princess Wan Qian received this pearl as a token of gratitude from their leader. She had locked it away in a cabinet, never to be touched again.

Now, the pearl rested in the concubine’s palm, evidence that this woman had nearly ransacked the entire palace.

Upon hearing someone enter, the concubine angrily demanded: “Which palace are you from? How dare you trespass without my permission? Do you know no rules?”

Before Shi Luoyi could respond, an elderly eunuch standing outside the screen rubbed his eyes, exclaiming in surprise: “Oh! It’s the Immortal Lady of Buye Mountain returned! Your humble servant greets you, Immortal Lady. Her Highness the Consort is newly arrived in the palace and unfamiliar with its customs. Please forgive her intrusion into Princess Wan Qian’s former residence. Your humble servant kowtows to you, Immortal Lady—please don’t hold it against us.”

Shi Luoyi lowered her gaze, recognizing the eunuch. He seemed to be named Li Nian, commonly referred to as Eunuch Nian. Thirteen years ago, he had been responsible for cleaning this palace. Though much older now, his appearance hadn’t changed significantly.

“Eunuch Nian? Rise and speak. There’s no need for such formalities. I hold no one at fault—I’ve only come to retrieve some belongings. Is my mother’s portrait still here?”

Eunuch Nian’s face broke into a flower-like smile: “Thirteen years have passed, yet the Immortal Lady still remembers this humble servant—it’s such a great honor. The portrait should be in the inner chamber. Allow me to fetch it for you immediately.”

On the chaise lounge, the concubine watched uncertainly through the screen. She glanced between the obsequious Eunuch Nian and the silhouette of Shi Luoyi.

Unable to clearly see the faces of Shi Luoyi and her companions, the concubine only realized who they were upon hearing their conversation. It was none other than the daughter of Princess Wan Qian—the little princess of Buye Mountain!

Ordinarily, mortals harbored some reverence for cultivators. Had this encounter occurred three months ago, the concubine might have felt intimidated.

But over these past three months, Zhao Shu had spoiled her rotten. Initially fearful and walking on eggshells due to the new emperor’s rumored brutality, she soon discovered that since March, she had basked daily in his favor. Not only had Zhao Shu refrained from uttering a harsh word to her, but he also granted her every wish.

Just days ago, she had ordered a palace maid executed for attempting to seduce Zhao Shu, only for Zhao Shu himself to witness the scene. Trembling, she prepared to explain, but Zhao Shu merely gazed at her face, unfazed: “Fear not, my beloved. As long as you’re happy, that’s all that matters.”

Throughout the dynasty’s history, no woman had ascended from a lowly rank to become a noble consort within a mere three months.

All the women in the harem envied her bitterly, especially since Zhao Shu had previously shown little interest in carnal pleasures, often visiting the harem only twice a month while preoccupied with state affairs. But after the concubine’s arrival, he indulged in her company almost daily.

The concubine took immense pride in Zhao Shu’s apparent devotion to her.

Only she knew that no emperor would ever truly submit to a woman—not even in the bedroom. Zhao Shu had once allowed her to wear a veil while atop him…

His gaze, intense and tinged with obsession, still made her blush when she recalled it. This fueled her arrogance and audacity.

Thus, upon realizing that the visitor was Shi Luoyi, the concubine’s initial shock gave way to calm composure.

Cultivators rarely interfered in mortal affairs. Even if Shi Luoyi were upset, she wouldn’t harm her. Besides, Princess Wan Qian had been dead for decades, and now all of Southern Yue belonged to her emperor. What harm was there in exploring this palace?

Having reasoned this out, the concubine glared angrily at Li Nian, the wretched eunuch.

Li Nian was the custodian of this palace. For reasons unknown, Zhao Shu held him in high regard. Earlier, when she entered, Li Nian had only scolded her sternly: “Your Highness mustn’t touch this or that.”

Yet now, before Shi Luoyi, he fawned like a wagging-tailed dog.

The concubine rose from the chaise lounge, supported by a palace maid, and stepped around the screen. Now fully composed, she grew curious about the legendary beauty Princess Wan Qian’s daughter—how attractive was she? Did she surpass her own beauty?

At sixteen, the concubine had been pampered since childhood for her breathtaking beauty. With Zhao Shu doting on her now, she was confident in her allure.

She approached Shi Luoyi with measured steps, intending to greet her as the hostess of Southern Yue offering respects to the Immortal Lady—a polite gesture to smooth over any offense.

As the concubine drew near, Shi Luoyi happened to raise her eyes.

The concubine froze. Beneath the candlelight stood a maiden in lotus-colored robes, her bright eyes and crimson lips incomparably beautiful.

No matter how the concubine had speculated, she hadn’t expected such a face—one far beyond her own. Her complexion darkened as she finally understood why even cultivators had sought Princess Wan Qian’s hand in marriage.

Another pair of eyes fell coldly upon the concubine. She turned to see a man clad in silver-white robes, his handsome features icy and aloof. His piercing gaze chilled her to the bone, and she instinctively retreated two steps, steadied by her palace maid.

From Li Nian’s account, Shi Luoyi learned that this woman had only recently entered the palace yet was already bestowed the title of noble consort. She was astonished, finding something oddly familiar about the concubine’s appearance.

Furrowing her brows slightly, Shi Luoyi wondered if it was her imagination, but she thought she saw traces of herself in the concubine’s features—perhaps three or four parts resemblance.

However, Shi Luoyi was not a vain person. Both in this life and her previous one, she had endured misfortune, loved by almost no one. Dismissing the thought, she simply told the concubine: “I’ve come to retrieve my mother’s belongings.”

Under Bian Lingyu’s cold stare, the concubine trembled, unable to speak. She could only stand aside and watch as Shi Luoyi entered the inner chamber to retrieve the painting.

Shi Luoyi opened the long wooden box and sighed in relief—the portrait her father had painted of her mother was still there. The box was sealed with a restriction that mortals couldn’t easily open. This painting was her mother’s most cherished possession, the only item Princess Wan Qian had allowed Daoist Lord Shi Huan to protect with a restriction, following human customs throughout her life.

The painting depicted the first time Princess Wan Qian met Shi Huan. She had kept it where she could see it every day, which was why Daoist Lord Shi Huan had preserved her traces over the years.

Cradling the wooden box, Shi Luoyi nodded to the concubine: “Please inform Emperor Zhao Shu that I’ve taken a painting from the palace. The palace and its other contents are at His Majesty’s disposal.”

The concubine watched her, her expression sour, and nodded vaguely.

Night had fallen deeply, and Shi Luoyi wanted Bian Lingyu to rest well. He had finally regained some semblance of health under her care. Taking the wooden box, she summoned the celestial carriage, intending to stay at a nearby inn and visit her mother’s tomb the next day.

By the time Zhao Shu arrived, Shi Luoyi had already departed.

Spies loyal to him were everywhere in the palace. On his way from Mingde Hall, he had already heard from his trusted aides about the incident at Princess Wan Qian’s former residence.

The concubine, still shaken by Bian Lingyu’s frigid gaze and unsettled by meeting Shi Luoyi, assumed Zhao Shu had rushed here because he feared she had been mistreated.

Full of grievances, she threw herself into Zhao Shu’s arms, though she still had enough sense not to accuse the cultivator: “Your Majesty, I only wanted to look around this palace, but these servants obstructed me at every turn and treated me disrespectfully. Please punish them on my behalf.”

She failed to notice the dark expression on Zhao Shu’s face or the chill in his eyes.

Eunuch Nian, however, saw it all. Bowing low to the ground, he felt a mix of pity and mockery for the concubine.

Zhao Shu ignored her plea, coldly ordering: “Everyone, leave.”

The trembling palace servants, relieved that the emperor hadn’t punished them for the concubine’s complaints, quickly exited.

The concubine frowned, confused as to why Zhao Shu wasn’t indulging her as usual. Stepping back from his embrace, she encountered a pair of shadowy, menacing eyes.

“Your Majesty, uh—”

Her slender neck was seized by his hand and pressed against the chaise lounge. Gone was the tender Zhao Shu who had once catered to her every whim. His voice was venomous as he growled: “You met Shi Luoyi?”

The concubine trembled, too afraid to defy him, and nodded repeatedly.

“Was she beautiful?” he sneered softly.

The concubine was nearly soul-shattered.

“Speak!”

“Be-beautiful…”

Zhao Shu’s eyes were nearly bloodshot as he growled: “Do you know how long I’ve waited just to see her again? Thirteen years!”

Leaning close to her ear, he sneered softly: “And you—do you think you were favored for your own sake? You’ve seen her now. Do you still not understand?”

The concubine’s face turned ashen, and at this moment, she finally understood everything. Recalling the affection Zhao Shu had showered upon her these past months, a chill ran through her heart. She began pleading frantically: “Your Majesty, spare me! Spare me…”

With his other hand, Zhao Shu traced the concubine’s brows and eyes. Tears streamed down her face, and all resemblance to the person she had been vanished. Disgusted, he released her and coldly ordered: “Dispose of her.”

A shadow guard silently emerged from the rafters, gagged the concubine, and dragged her away.

In the middle of the night, rain poured over the outskirts of the city. Not far away lay a desolate burial ground. Wolves often roamed here in spring, and many palace servants who had erred in life were dumped here after death.

The shadow guards weren’t entirely sure why the emperor had suddenly ordered the disposal of his most favored concubine. They dared not humiliate or kill her outright, fearing the emperor might change his mind midway. Instead, they dug a pit, bound the concubine, and threw her in, intending to bury her alive.

If the emperor relented later, there would still be time to retrieve her.

Unfortunately, by the time they finished burying her, the emperor’s heart remained cold, and no countermand was issued. The shadow guards melted away into the forest.

Just before dawn, a heavy rain washed away the soil, revealing the concubine’s freshly lifeless face.

A pair of cyan boots stepped through the burial ground. A young girl holding a glass flute walked past broken bones and mangled flesh without so much as a glance.

Noticing something, Bian Qingxuan paused. She crouched down, not bothering to touch the filthy face herself but instead using her jade flute to lift it coldly.

Clever as she was, and well-versed in the world’s filth, Bian Qingxuan stared at the newly deceased concubine for a moment before sneering: “A counterfeit? Doesn’t look much like her. Much uglier.”

Her gaze lingered on the faint resemblance to Shi Luoyi’s features. She recalled what someone might have thought or done while gazing at this face. Withdrawing her flute, she said emotionlessly: “Disgusting.”

Bian Qingxuan stepped over the scattered bones on the ground. The spring breeze rustled the treetops, producing a faint whispering sound.

After she left, a swarm of white ants seemed summoned, descending upon the concubine’s face and destroying her features within moments.

The wind passed, leaving no trace.

Bian Qingxuan returned to the forest where her sect’s disciples were stationed. Wei Changyuan was meditating under a tree, his chest stained with blood, his lips pale.

This group from the Hengwu Sect had taken on a mission to investigate the disappearance of ordinary people.

Since the previous year, every few days, hundreds of young boys and girls had gone missing in each country.

So many disappearances initially went unnoticed, as it was common for people to go missing every year. But during the New Year festival, a young Daoist was found with his heart torn out. His master, who lit the soul lamp for him, happened to belong to the immortal sect. It was then that the world learned of an evil force behind the chaos. The incident wasn’t human-made or coincidental. That cultivator had firmly declared that a shadow had devoured his disciple’s heart.

Bian Qingxuan had taken on this mission not only to eliminate demons but also because she knew about the battle between Bian Lingyu and the fallen celestial demons. She was aware that Bian Lingyu had slain hundreds of demons, yet aside from the Immortal Toad, one Zhu Yan had escaped.

Time was running out for Bian Qingxuan. She had spent too long in the mortal realm and had fought against Bian Lingyu. Now, apart from her innate charm abilities, she could barely summon her divine flute.

Heaven’s laws did not permit gods to remain outside the divine realm for extended periods, disrupting the mortal world.

Bian Lingyu refused to reclaim the divine pearl, and Bian Qingxuan couldn’t kill Shi Luoyi. If the divine pearl disappeared along with its host, no one could predict what calamity might follow Shi Luoyi’s death.

All Bian Qingxuan could do was lure Shi Luoyi into falling into demonic possession. The divine pearl could not coexist with an evil body. If Shi Luoyi succumbed to demonic influence and began killing, the pearl would shatter and burst out of her body, allowing it to be retrieved.

Currently, Buye Mountain was shielded by the spiritual energy of powerful cultivators, and Bian Lingyu guarded Shi Luoyi closely. Bian Qingxuan had no way to act directly. She could only gamble.

She wagered that the recent surge in the dragon qi of Southern Yue indicated Zhu Yan’s emergence.

Zhu Yan symbolized war and slaughter.

As the only god in existence, Bian Lingyu would undoubtedly come if there was even a single breath left in him. Stubborn as he was, he would sacrifice himself for the sake of sentient beings.

Southern Yue was Shi Luoyi’s homeland. How could she not return to investigate?

Thinking of them now as Dao partners, Bian Qingxuan’s expression darkened. She wasn’t sure how far their relationship had progressed.

Initially, Bian Qingxuan hadn’t been certain whether the entity causing havoc was Zhu Yan. But two days ago, when Wei Changyuan fought the shadow, he sustained severe injuries within just a few moves.

At that critical moment, she had focused solely on evading the shadow, leaving Wei Changyuan to fend for himself. To protect the younger disciples behind him, he had endured being pierced through by the shadow, resulting in grave injuries.

Her gaze fell on the youth sitting beneath the tree. Since learning the truth, Wei Changyuan hadn’t spoken a word to her.

The other disciples murmured: “Little Junior Sister has returned. Did she find any trace of that evil entity?”

Bian Qingxuan shook her head. She approached Wei Changyuan and took out a healing pill from her sleeve: “Senior Brother Wei, take this.”

She no longer called him “Senior Brother Changyuan.”

The youth opened his eyes. Their gazes met briefly. Resistance flickered in his eyes as he rasped: “Take it away.”

She let out a silent sneer. Wei Changyuan tried to let go of his resentment, but what use was it? Deep down, he still harbored grievances. He now knew that he had never truly loved her, and the woman he had always protected—Shi Luoyi—was now someone else’s Dao partner.