Chapter 2

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In a Grand Selection Year, at the foot of the imperial capital’s walls, under the gazes of all, the son of a high court official had gone to see the kings of the underworld just like this, without a sound.

And the kings of the underworld had sent him back in the middle of the night to sing a little folk ditty, as auspicious as you could ask for, to add some color to the night on which the imperial capital selected a beauty!

By coincidence, a squad of city guards was patrolling the area. As soon as they saw Wang Baochang, they knew that something serious had happened. They immediately fended off the observers and notified Heaven's Design Pavilion.

This so-called Heaven's Design Pavilion was the state sect Xuanyin’s outer sect.

The immortals of Xuanyin Mountain focused on cultivation and didn’t often descend to the mortal world. All ordinary trifles were handled by Heaven's Design Pavilion, so Heaven's Design Pavilion’s members were also known as “walkers in the mortal world.”

A “walker in the mortal world” was a cultivator of the “open-eyed stage” who had set foot into the immortal sect. It was said that they could take spiritual energy into their bodies but hadn’t truly established a foundation and entered the Way. In the mortal world, they were normally called “half-immortals.” Because they dressed in blue when they were on official business, they were also popularly called “blue-clothed half-immortals.”

Cultivators in the open-eyed stage lived a couple of hundred years and knew a variety of magical skills. They didn’t make obeisance to the emperor. They supported the immortal sect, expelled evil and kept to the Way. They were sent by the state sect to preserve the peace and safety of the country. Under normal circumstances, they weren’t under the court’s control; when it was convenient, they could even mobilize up to a thousand troops from the local garrisons.

Heaven's Design Pavilion’s walkers in the mortal world came very quickly—in Jinping City, apart from the Heaven's Design Pavilion’s head office, there were also seven stations to match the Seven Mansions of the Blue Dragon in the sky. It was said that they guarded Jinping’s Dragon Vein. They were called Azure Dragon Towers.1 Each night, there were people standing guard at the stations.

The Azure Dragon Heart Tower just happened to be near the pleasure boat ferry crossing. The guard captain on duty at the Heart Tower tonight was surnamed Zhao, named Yu. As soon as the walking dead Wang Baochang gave his hoarse cry, the bronze bells under the eaves of the Azure Dragon Tower began to thunder simultaneously, startling Captain Zhao from his meditation.

When Zhao Yu arrived at the ferry crossing with two subordinates, the city guards saw the dazzling sapphire blue robes from afar and made way one after another, respectfully calling out “Exalted.”

Zhao Yu kept his gaze focused straight ahead, striding toward the corpse. Before he could take a close look, he heard a heartrending wail from a hundred meters away.

The city guard officer keeping watch over the body quickly said from beside him, “Exalted, we’ve already dispersed the rubberneckers. This is the deceased’s family.”

“Evil cultivators have many means. Before the body has been thoroughly investigated, don’t let mortals come add to the trouble,” Zhao Yu ordered lightly, then asked, “Who is the dead man?”

The officer responded: “The Ministry of War’s Assistant Minister Wang’s son.”

Hearing this, Zhao Yu paused slightly. His tone became somewhat more polite. “Explain all the details to his family and ask them to step aside and wait for now… I’ll go in person to offer my condolences to Assistant Minister Wang soon.”

The officer gave an affirmative, then turned to give his subordinate the order. Holding up a lantern himself, he slavishly followed after, offering up a green jade tablet wrapped in cloth. “Exalted, this fell from the deceased. There’s writing on it.”

A corner of the green jade tablet had broken off. All that was left on it was someone’s horoscope.

Before Zhao Yu could take a close look, a soldier from the city guard trotted over.

“Come here and report.” Zhao Yu raised his eyelids. “What is it?”

“E-Exalted.” Brought before a walker in the mortal world, this young soldier was about to forget how to speak. He babbled, “We’ve found his family…and his page boy. The kid says that his young master… Well, he says his young master was still drinking in company at Overflowing Splendor half a shichen ago, and there was nothing unusual about him. They still haven’t broken it up at Overflowing Splendor. Many people saw the deceased… They say he’d just had too much to drink earlier and wanted to go out for a walk, but after he went out, he didn’t come back.”

The officer pulled a long face. “Nonsense. Take the page boy in for close questioning. With the body this stiff, he must have been dead at least five or six shichen!”

The young soldier shivered and mumbled an affirmative.

“Not necessarily.” After listening to this, Zhao Yu had people turn Wang Baochang’s corpse over. He scrutinized it for a moment. He took out a thumb ring and put it on his thumb. The thumb ring was set with a crystal the size of a soybean. Captain Zhao lightly tapped four acupoints traveling up the corpse’s torso. Finally, his fingers abruptly pressed with force into the acupoint at the hollow of the corpse’s throat. Meanwhile, he held the crystal on the thumb ring between the corpse’s mouth and nose.

Wang Baochang’s corpse puffed twice. Like a coal stove burning low quality charcoal, black smoke spouted from the seven orifices of his face. All at once, it poured into the crystal on the thumb ring.

The surrounding city guards retreated in unison. The officer holding the lantern involuntarily craned his neck and did his best to hold his breath.

They saw that the crystal, which had been clear as ice, had turned into a bead of charcoal after sucking in the smoke. Looking closely, there was also some dim rust-liked red in it.

“The vigor has yet to disperse,” Zhao Yu asserted. “He just inhaled this breath. It’s still fresh.”

The city guards didn’t dare to speak. They could only exchange glances. They were all thinking that from his condition, this fellow didn’t seem very fresh.

Zhao Yu ordered: “Shave his hair.”

The city guard officer had gone overboard in currying favor. He just happened to be standing next to Zhao Yu now. Hearing the order, he didn’t dare to shirk. He had to brace himself and personally follow through.

When about half of the corpse’s hair had been shaved, the officer gave a surprised “oh!” and jumped up off the ground—starting from the top of the head, the corpse’s skin had turned bright red, as if a sheet of rouge had been stuck close to his scalp. The edge of the red was already drawing near to his hairline, about to spill over onto his face.

Zhao Yu weighed the jade tablet with the birth character written on it in his hand. His expression became slightly grim. “The dark veil. Someone has stolen him for an underworld marriage.”

Xi Ping only heard of this the next morning.

The night before, he had gracefully “flown” into Prince Zhuang Manor. His Highness Prince Zhuang had been unhealthy from birth. He had dim sight disease. Startled in the middle of the night, he threw on his clothes and went to have a look, then nearly went blind altogether. He cursed “disgraceful” three times in a row and called servants to haul the Great Moth Xi away to be washed. The Viscount’s heart was easy. When he was clean, he simply stayed on at Prince Zhuang Manor, planning to sleep till midday as usual.

But as soon as day broke, he was dragged out from under the covers by Prince Zhuang and taken to receive a guest.

Xi Ping was hastily cleaned up and shoved into the south study. In the south study, he met a walker in the mortal world who looked like a Bodhisattva. The “Bodhisattva” hurled a bomb directly into his face: Wang Baochang, who was strong as an ox, had keeled over and died the night before!

For a moment, Xi Ping forgot to close his opened fan. With the big words “Peerless Beauty” on the fan laying across his chest, he became a wooden chicken of peerless beauty.

Beside him, Prince Zhuang coughed gently.

Out of habit, Xi Ping picked up a teacup, tested the temperature with the back of his hand, then passed it to him. Then he finally came around. His expression changed. “Our manor’s people found the body? What about my father? Was he also there at the time? Did he also see the dead man?”

In his youth, the Marquis had been called Great Wan’s Wei Jie. He was a Xishi2 among men. He was always going around around having chest pains. If he had bumped into a corpse giving a funeral wail in the middle of the night, wouldn’t he have been scared into an attack?

The walker in the mortal world said, “In fact, he didn’t. Set your mind at ease. The Marquis was hanging back a step. He wasn’t with your manor’s guards.”

“I see.” Xi Ping wafted the “Peerless Beauty” fan twice, his heart falling back into his chest. “What did you just say, sir? What does it mean to be stolen for an underworld marriage?”

“It’s a means evil cultivators use to kill,” the walker in the mortal world patiently explained. “The evildoer will think of a way to get the victim to accept a dead person’s marriage proposal card. Then they collect a measure of his fresh blood and three of his hairs, and mix them with corpse grease, incense ash, cinnabar, and other such materials, turning it into a pigment, then write a ‘marriage contract’ on a human scalp that has been peeled off whole. Written on the proposal card will be the horoscope of the original owner of the scalp. The ‘auspicious date’ written on the ‘marriage contract’ will be the victim’s date of death. Before death, his words and actions will be just what is written in the ‘marriage contract.’ Even if you were to make him slice off his own flesh and eat it, he would still comply. A person who has been stolen for an underworld marriage will stiffen before he dies. After death, he will start turning red from the top of the head. Within three shichen, the red stain will spread to the chin, like a bride’s veil, so this appearance in death is also called the ‘dark veil.’”

Having heard this, Xi Ping was startled. “No, wait a moment, that’s… Exalted, are you saying that a ghost snatched Big Dog Wang up to be a groom…no, a bride? What kind of ghost has tastes that offensive to all of society…hss!”

Prince Zhuang had kicked him under the table, interrupting his heartless opining.

The walker in the mortal world who had come to pay his respects at Prince Zhuang Manor was Captain Zhao Yu himself.

Heaven's Design Pavilion had spent the night before searching the pleasure boat ferry crossing and had come up empty. That was why they had come to Xi Ping—he was the last living person to see Wang Baochang. Hearing that he had stayed the night at the third prince’s manor, Captain Zhao had come in person to pay a visit.

Zhao Yu was rather self-possessed. He didn’t take offense at Xi Ping’s words, only asked, “May I ask whether you noticed anything strange at the pleasure boat ferry crossing last night?”

Xi Ping thought about it for a while. “No, I was the strangest thing at the ferry crossing.”

Zhao Yu also asked, “Then are you aware of who might have had a grudge against the deceased?”

Xi Ping gave a “ha.” Having been asked this, he warmed to his subject. He shut his fan. “There are plenty of those. With that Big…that fellow Wang’s popularity, if you go to either bank of the Lingyang River and ask around, nine people in ten would probably want to curse him to death…”

Seeing that he was becoming more disgraceful the more he talked, Prince Zhuang could only interrupt him once more. “He wasn’t sternly disciplined as a child. He’s been spoiled out of all seeming. Pardon me, Exalted.”

The Viscount of Yongning’s “good name” was well known. Zhao Yu had heard of him before. Seeing him in person, he knew he wouldn’t get anything useful out of him. He could only turn toward Prince Zhuang and say, “Evil cultivators have infiltrated Jinping in a Grand Selection Year and, with a corpse as a medium, conspired against the life of the son of a high court official. Their plans are sure to be of considerable scope. Heaven's Design Pavilion will do its best to chase down these evildoers. You and the others of high rank are asked to look after yourselves. Also, those who die stolen for an underworld marriage often have corpse poison on them. I heard that the Viscount made contact with the deceased last night. I have here a talisman to calm the mind and ward off evil. Please remember to soak it in water and consume it.”

Prince Zhuang waved a hand to order the servant who was about to step forward to retreat and took the talisman himself. Then he turned to instruct someone to bring out an ancient painting he had collected. He said to Zhao Yu, “By coincidence, I recently obtained this treasure. As a layman, I don’t know how to store a famous artwork without doing it a disservice. I heard long ago that Heaven's Design Pavilion has an Exalted Zhao who is an expert. By a happy coincidence, I’ve encountered you today, so I can’t do without being shameless enough to entrust it to you.”

Zhao Yu raised his eyebrows slightly. “Your Highness has heard of me?”

Prince Zhuang said, smiling, “When I was little, I studied painting with Mr. Tanghua of the Ning’an Zhao family. He mentioned you more than once, Exalted.”

Hearing this, Zhao Yu smiled. With his young man’s face, he involuntarily assumed the posture of an elder. Nodding, he said, “Tanghua is my third younger brother’s son.”

Xi Ping had woken early and hadn’t eaten yet. Prince Zhuang wouldn’t let him talk, so while his wicked mouth was resting, he had furtively snuck a pastry off the table next to him. Hearing this, he nearly choked on a lotus crisp. In spite of himself, he was filled with veneration toward the blue-clothed Exalted in front of him—Mr. Tanghua was so old he was senile; how old would his uncle have to be?

He sure could live!

Elevated as his lineage was, Prince Zhuang was still a mortal. Zhao Yu hadn’t meant to say anything to him; he had planned to leave after talking about official business. But he was pulled back to the mortal world by the name “Tanghua.” He remembered the little nephew he had played with when he had been mortal. His manner involuntarily became somewhat more cordial. He gave a pointer: “The immortal envoy will come to the capital soon. The chaos will only last a little while. Remember not to go out much in the next few days and not to accept anything with a horoscope written on it, or anything resembling a marriage proposal note. Punishing evil is our duty. There’s no need to thank me, Your Highness. The painting isn’t…”

Before he could finish, a servant came up holding out a wooden box with both hands. As soon as the box was opened, Zhao Yu’s refusal caught in his throat.

Xi Ping craned his neck and looked. He saw a scrap of painting in the box, only a half-chi square, all ragged. He thought, What the hell is this? An old dusting cloth that’s been stewing in a dying vat?

But the walker in the mortal world Captain Zhao, seeing this “dusting cloth,” had to use all his strength not to reveal a trace of the storm surging in his mind. Because he was holding back so much, his voice was a little tense. “The Mount Fu Mirage Drawing.”

Prince Zhuang casually said, smiling, “My knowledge of painting and calligraphy is superficial. I only obtained this scrap of the painting, and I really can’t tell whether it’s real or fake. I’ve heard that you have a ‘viewing wave,’ Exalted, that can tell fake from real. Please appraise it.”

The corner of Zhao Yu’s eye twitched slightly. He silently extended a hand and twisted his fingers, putting on the thumb ring set with a crystal. As soon as the crystal came within an arm’s length of the canvas, it let off a warm white light, impatient to declare that this painting couldn’t be more genuine.

“It seems I wasn’t taken in. That was nerve-racking. If it really had been fake, I would have humiliated myself in front of you.” Having said this, Prince Zhuang ordered his servant to wrap the painting up. “Please don’t stand on ceremony, Exalted. Mr. Tanghua was my teacher, and you are Mr. Tanghua’s elder. It’s proper to show respect to an elder.”

The Mount Fu Mirage Drawing had been torn to pieces in the chaos of war. Zhao Yu had hunted high and low for over fifty years, and till now he had only found two surviving sections of the work. If he had encountered it elsewhere, he might have been beside himself with joy; he would have paid any price to get it.

But now, no matter how Prince Zhuang had obtained it, the reason Zhao Yu was shocked was that this ancient painting was the key to whether he would be able to take a step forward and establish a foundation. Every cultivating half-immortal had such a “key.” This was a profound secret.

Why would Prince Zhuang give him this painting?

Was it coincidence, or…

This sickly young man’s smile was very pure. He seemed entirely unaware of the ancient painting’s value.

Zhao Yu was uneasy, but he really couldn’t refuse the scrap of the ancient painting. After dithering in silence for a long time, he tucked his “viewing wave,” which was slightly hot, into his palm. He cupped his hand respectfully and quietly said, “Such being the case, I thank Your Highness. If there is any errand you may have…”

“Oh,” Prince Zhuang interrupted him, “how could I dare? I only wanted to accumulate a bit of merit. We can all live safely in Jinping City through the blessings of the immortal sect and the protection of you Exalteds.”

Zhao Yu gave him a profound look, took the painting, stood, and said goodbye. Prince Zhuang personally saw him to the door.

Xi Ping didn’t bother to think about what riddle these two were playing at. As soon as Exalted Zhao left, like a shameless dog, he slipped behind Prince Zhuang, planning to give him a back massage.

“Go away.” Prince Zhuang turned, his expression changing. The smile that seemed to have grown there was torn off. “I can’t endure your pounding.”

Xi Ping drew back his paws and poured tea for Prince Zhuang. “Thank you for sheltering me, san-ge. Have some tea, san-ge.”

Prince Zhuang put on a grim expression and glared at him.

Great Wan’s imperial family’s surname was Zhou. His Third Highness Prince Zhuang’s given name was Ying. He looked as mild as jade. Adding in an air of sickliness, no matter how he glared, he didn’t seem stern.

Anyway, Xi Ping grinned, not the least bit afraid of him.

Prince Zhuang questioned him: “What actually happened last night?”

“My birth sign has clashed with Tai Sui.3 I’m having a year of bad luck.” Xi Ping plucked a piece of chilled lychee, peeled it, and tossed it into his mouth. “There’s a girl at Overflowing Splendor, her musician had a bit of an accident right before going on stage. The song she was going to sing was written by me. I saw that she was in an awkward situation… Well, I also wanted to show off my skills, so I dressed up and accompanied her. But I was unlucky enough to run into my father. I mean, our old master, he’s hardly a respectable person himself. Fine, the governors are allowed to set fires, while the commoners aren’t even allowed to light lanterns. He sent his people to chase me down eight streets. I wore out the soles of my feet…"

Prince Zhuang said, angrily, “What a scandal!”

“Who said it wasn’t?” Xi Ping slapped his thigh. “It’s one thing to bump into each other. Awkward enough. Wouldn’t it have been all right for the two of us to pretend not to know each other? But he just had to yell so loud, and now it’s all over the city. Isn’t he worried about the humiliation?!”

Prince Zhuang: “…”

His maternal uncle’s family was hard to describe. His Third Highness’s temples ached. He tapped on his wooden chair’s armrest, making the servants bring warm water. He dissolved the talisman Captain Zhao had given them and forced Xi Ping to drink it.

“Oh, oh, oh, I’ll do it myself… Hey… Damn, what is this taste? Was this talisman drawn on toilet paper?”

“Talk any more nonsense and I’ll stuff your mouth with toilet paper,” said Prince Zhuang.

Xi Ping quickly grabbed a handful of preserved fruit and stuffed his mouth full, leaving no room for toilet paper.

Prince Zhuang glared at him for a while. The rims of his eyes began to sting, but his gaze still couldn’t pierce the brat’s face, which was three chi thick. He could only say in exasperation, “Didn’t you hear just now that the immortal envoy is about to arrive? Give it a rest for a few days, all right? For a few days, stay at home. If you don’t want to study, then sleep. Don’t go to those disreputable places.”

Xi Ping spat out a pit. “What does the Grand Selection have to do with me…”

“You’re the son of a noble family, too, and you’re of suitable age. How could it not have to do with you?” Prince Zhuang became serious and called him by his courtesy name: “Shiyong, you’re not a child anymore. You ought to give some thought for your future!”

“Noble families have golden thresholds and wooden thresholds, but ours is a ‘water threshold’ rented from the Dragon King Temple,” Xi Ping said carelessly. “San-ge, don’t make fun of my father. At his age, leave him some dignity.”

The Marquis of Yongning’s threshold being of “water” wasn’t any kind of secret—during the reign of the previous emperor, Great Wan’s noble houses had colluded. The present emperor’s wife’s relatives had brought about disaster, raising a stink in court. This emperor was a steely-hearted personage. After succeeding to the throne, he had silently endured for many years. Once he had brought order out of chaos, he had cut down his important relatives until flowers bloomed on their ancestral tombs; he had even nearly killed his own empress.

There were many noble ladies of high rank in the palace who suffered the fallout from their families. In this way, by happenstance, Lady Xi was able to shine.

Lady Xi came from a humble family, with a petty official for a father who had died young, leaving only a good-for-nothing older brother to head the family. Like a common green foxtail that had gotten mixed in with peonies in a garden, she had unexpectedly caught the sovereign’s eye, then given birth to the astonishingly comely and talented third prince. She remained a favorite and rose to the position of Imperial Consort.

In three generations of the Xi family, man or woman, young or old, there was no one who wasn’t beautiful, and no one who wasn’t an empty head.

But while empty heads were useless, they were also harmless. This family didn’t make trouble and didn’t strive for power. They focused on spending their own money and didn’t damage the country or bring calamity to the people. Placed at court, they were unusually pleasing to the eye. His Majesty, in order to nauseate an old political opponent, with a wave of the brush, had created the imperial consort’s older brother as a do-nothing empty “Marquis of Yongning”—hoping that the family wouldn’t forget their origins and would forever remain as they were.

A “decorative” noble house like theirs might spook the common people, but it wasn’t enough to fool Xuanyin Mountain into giving them a selection card. After all, Prince Zhuang was still young; he hadn’t supplanted his big brother the Crown Prince.

It could only happen if the family’s younger generation was unusually talented, with a good name that spread far and wide.

Though Young Master Xi’s “good name”… Eh, don’t mention it.

Xuanyin Mountain’s selection cards might be scattered throughout the streets of Jinping City, and one still wouldn’t come to him. Lately his mother had been looking out for a match for him.

“Don’t blame your own lack of talent on my uncle.”

Xi Ping sighed. “A dog father can’t rear a tiger cub. Having raised me, what face can the Marquis still have?”

For a time, Prince Zhuang actually had nothing to say.

Xi Ping waved a hand, pulled over a small porcelain dish, peeled two lychees, and put them in front of Prince Zhuang.

His qin playing was superb, and his fingers were very clever. None of the fruit’s peel stuck to the flesh; it was completely clean. “You’ll get inflammation if you eat too many of these things, san-ge. I’ve peeled two for you and put them there. Sweeten your mouth, don’t eat too much.”

When this brat was acting out, he really was disgraceful, but when he was good, he was truly good. Prince Zhuang’s furrowed brow softened.

Then Xi Ping came up with a new line: “Anyway, I don’t want to go. Xuanyin Mountain is so finicky, all ‘three improvements, three abstinences,’ don’t do this, don’t do that… Is that any way to live? It’s better to die young than live forever like that.”

Saying so, perhaps because he had eaten too many lychees, he burped on the spot.

Prince Zhuang’s hand, reaching for the lychees, drew back once more. He was aggrieved and angry. “Bullshit. You have no sense of taboo! I… You… Get out, out, out.”

Xi Ping nimbly stood up. “All right!”

“Wait, Xi Shiyong,” Prince Zhuang called him to a halt. “If for nothing else, the capital has been turbulent lately, and there’s even been a death. Don’t go out to fool around so much, do you hear me?”

Xi Ping called out “At your command,” while his feet took him gliding out of the south study—if he only ran fast enough, san-ge’s earnest admonitions couldn’t catch up to him.