Chapter 12: Wen Bai

Wei Li sat in the back seat, brimming with satisfaction as she admired the large box of gold leaf beside her. The corners of her eyes lifted slightly as she gazed at Si Beixu, who was driving her back to the temple. His expression remained stern and unsmiling, just as always. As Wei Li was about to tease him, he suddenly spoke with grave seriousness, "What I wanted, you have already given me. What you wanted, I have given to you. From now on, neither of us owes the other anything. I am not Li Sheng; I have no interest in you whatsoever. So, do not interfere in my life or the lives of the people of this county again."

Wei Li felt annoyed and ignored Si Beixu, turning her attention to the world outside the car window. The people bustling about were already dressed in light, thin garments—it seemed summer was just around the corner. She looked up at the fierce sunlight, wondering what true heat felt like.

Wei Li asked Si Beixu to stop the car, saying she wanted to stroll through the market and telling him to deliver the gold leaf back to the temple. Though her commanding tone irritated Si Beixu, he agreed, thinking that returning the gold leaf would finally sever any connection with this troublesome woman.

Wei Li wandered aimlessly through the marketplace. Perhaps because of the sweltering heat, only a few vendors were about, but one tavern was packed to the brim. Inside, a storyteller was passionately recounting tales of Yu Xuanji, the late Tang poet. Wei Li raised her brows and walked in. Jia Hang, seated upstairs in the loft, spotted her immediately and hurried down to greet her. "Little Immortal, are you here to listen to the story?"

"This storyteller is quite good," she replied.

"Let’s go upstairs, it’s brighter and cooler there."

Wei Li naturally accepted and followed Jia Hang upstairs.

The storyteller banged his wooden block and shouted, "After being wounded by love, in the seventh year of Xiantong, Yu Youwei took vows and became Xuanji. Who would have thought—her fate was sealed within the Daoist temple. Alas, what a tragedy!" His words flew from his lips with fervor.

Wei Li, sipping her wine, listened with interest to his impassioned speech. Jia Hang watched her lazy demeanor, wanting to strike up a conversation, gulped down wine after wine, and finally spoke after much deliberation, "Little Immortal, I’m leaving."

"Where to?"

"My mother always hoped I’d make something of myself. In a letter from my uncle, he suggested I should take the official exam. If I pass, I can become a magistrate." Jia Hang looked up at Wei Li, his face slightly flushed.

"Being an official is good, power, influence, and money," Wei Li replied indifferently.

Jia Hang sighed, "If I truly return as an official, then I must marry."

"Marriage is good…" Wei Li said.

Jia Hang took another gulp of wine, but this time said nothing.

"For now, don’t think about anything else. Go take the exam, forge your own path, display your talents—that’s a man’s true ambition. Marry if you wish, find a girl you like, treat her well, and she’ll treat you well in return…" Wei Li normally wouldn’t meddle in such affairs, but seeing how kindly Jia Hang treated her, and sensing his youthful confusion, she offered advice without much thought.

When Wei Li looked closely at Jia Hang, he had already collapsed, dead drunk.

Wei Li continued listening to the story and drinking, thoroughly enjoying herself. As she let her gaze wander, she suddenly met the eyes of a ghost. The woman’s face was somewhat decayed, yet traces of beauty remained.

"Help me," the alluring yet rotten female ghost pleaded.

Wei Li pretended not to notice and kept listening to the passionate love story.

"Help me," the ghost drew closer, green water dripping from her body.

The alcohol made Wei Li’s head ache; she wanted to leave. Suddenly, the ghost entered Wei Li’s body. She froze in place. The drunken Jia Hang, catching Wei Li’s gaze, felt she was no longer herself, confused and wanting to reach for her hand, but Wei Li strode straight out of the tavern.

The next day, Wei Li woke slightly, her head still throbbing painfully. Rolling about in bed, she couldn’t open her eyes, but her hand touched a warm body—she thought it was the fox and snuggled closer, murmuring sweetly, "Good morning, Fox."

"Good morning." But it wasn’t the fox’s voice.

Wei Li’s eyes snapped open, only to see an elegant and imposing face before her.

"Living for hundreds of years and still dreaming of spring," Wei Li smiled with delight, rubbing her head against the man’s body, closing her eyes as if to fall asleep again.

After a long time, the shouts and cries from outside roused Wei Li. She rolled over and saw the man again, surprised for a moment before arching her brow and smiling, "So it wasn’t a dream…"

Wei Li got up, dressed, put on her shoes, and prepared to leave. She hesitated, turned to look at the man, her brows raised and lips curled in a pure, captivating smile, "I drank too much, I didn’t take advantage of you, did I?"

"Li’er, it’s been a long time," the man spoke.

All composure vanished from Wei Li’s face. She looked at the man; there was a faint scar at the corner of his brow.

"It’s been a long time," he said again, "I hope you’ve been well."

The familiar tone made Wei Li’s expression change ever so slightly. A chill ran down her spine; she stepped back a few paces in panic and then fled, running until exhaustion forced her to stop. She sat in a dilapidated pavilion, gasping for breath, her face pale and her body trembling like a leaf.

That dark, sunless past flooded her mind, leaving her breathless.

The female ghost appeared before Wei Li again. "My name is Fanghua. Yesterday, I borrowed your body without permission. I’m very sorry. Please, I beg you, help me." Fanghua pleaded, her decaying face set with deep, soulful eyes.

Wei Li ignored her.

Fanghua’s gaze deepened. "Your body—please, lend it to me one last time."

Wei Li’s sharp eyes locked onto Fanghua, furious that her drunkenness had given Fanghua the opportunity. "If not for you, he wouldn’t have found me!" Her low, slightly raspy voice carried a dangerous edge.

"The ghosts here say you’ve taken vows, begun to deliver souls. Can you help me find my corpse? I’m so cold…" Fanghua begged.

Thinking of her promise to Guangzong to deliver souls, Wei Li felt exasperated. She followed Fanghua to the desolate wilderness where Fanghua’s body had been abandoned. Dry trees surrounded them, dusk was falling, and the place felt eerie. Wei Li walked forward step by step; she’d seen enough horror to be unafraid. The summer night breeze swept by, lifting her bangs and revealing a pair of crystal-clear eyes.

By a lakeshore, Fanghua said, "My body is in this river."

Wei Li arched her brows, took off her shoes, and stepped into the water. Searching for Fanghua’s corpse was difficult. After a long time, she seemed to have found something and tried to pull it up. But the reflection in the water suddenly turned hideous, those icy eyes filled with loathing stared at her, and suddenly Wei Li was dragged down.

So uncomfortable…

The scene before her blurred, her head submerged beneath the water, suffocation set in, her body grew heavier and heavier, sinking deeper and deeper. Suddenly, memories long buried resurfaced with painful clarity, piercing her soul. Wei Li was lost, letting the past rush at her like a flood.

When they first met, Wei Li was a princess, and he was a sorcerer.

Despite the world’s bewilderment, the royal family’s scorn, and his own disdain, Wei Li still chose to marry him. She adorned herself in crimson, with both light and heavy makeup—thus began the tragedy…

"First, bow to Heaven and Earth!"

"Second, bow to parents!"

"Bowing to each other as husband and wife!"

"Enter the bridal chamber!"

He used the scales to lift Wei Li’s red veil, signifying ‘satisfaction.’ He gazed coldly at her enchanting eyes, clear as the autumn sky.

"Husband," Wei Li smiled radiantly, airy and light. Even though he did not love her, she believed she could break the ice and bring forth spring.

His bright eyes met hers as they each held a wedding goblet, eyes locked. Wei Li’s gaze was full of affection; she sipped the wine and smiled. Sleepiness crept over her, she dropped her cup and fell asleep on the couch, her hair spread like a cloud, joy still lingering between her brows even as she slept.

His gaze slid over her lips, red as crabapple blossom, and his thin lips curled into a mocking smile.

When Wei Li awoke again, she found herself in a living hell—blood everywhere, the air thick with a sweet, metallic scent. She lay in the pool of blood, fresh crimson still flowing. Her body froze, cold sweat drenched her. "Husband…" Wei Li called weakly.

He came over, his slender, pale finger lifted Wei Li’s thin chin, his lips curling with a strange, seductive smile.

Wei Li’s half-closed eyes, her trembling lips, tried to speak but no sound came.

How could she bear all this? She had once been a gentle princess cherished by all. She should not have suffered such agony. Now, like a broken doll, her dull eyes stared lifelessly from the blood, unmoving, as though dead.

"You’re lucky. The only survivor of this blood sacrifice," his deep voice carried a bloodthirsty pleasure—unlike him, yet still him.

Wei Li’s shocked, pained eyes burned fiercely; in an instant, her heart seized, her mind locked, unable to move, as if the clockwork had stopped.

Two years of acquaintance, Wei Li had given him all her devotion. She remembered their first meeting: riding horses without a care, he’d been trampled saving her. Wei Li looked up at him—his face was breathtaking, a few strands of dark hair flying before his brow, but on his right brow, a faint scar—a slight flaw on a handsome face, yet Wei Li fell for him at first sight.

Later, he entered the palace, and Wei Li learned he was a sorcerer.

Wei Li had confessed her heart openly.

He neither accepted nor rejected her.

But why did it end like this…

"Wen Bai, you are so cruel," Wei Li’s barely open eyes shot forth a fiery gaze, like an icy sword wrapped in flames, piercing her own heart in an instant.

Suddenly, Wei Li awoke, water covering her head. She struggled, mouth wide open, trying to call out but unable to make a sound. Her consciousness was drowned by the water, reduced to a blank void. She fought, arms flailing in panic, splashing water everywhere, her body sinking ever deeper, feeling the cold message of death.

But she would never die. Only her flesh would perish, and her flesh would be reborn again.