Chapter 26#
The rising sun gleamed brilliantly, its cool light falling on golden tiles, blending with crimson walls and softly scattering halos. When it touched the windows, it was blocked from entering.
The room was quiet, with layers of red silk curtains surrounding the bed. Xue Jingci hadn’t yet woken, hugging the warm creature in his arms, burying his head deep in the blankets.
Spring was cool, with peach blossoms blooming in the courtyard, pink and white, delicate. Inside, everything was deep red. A beautiful woman with dark hair held a white fox against her, lying in the wedding bed, looking even more brilliant.
When Xue Jingci opened his eyes, a fluffy white tail just swept across his neck, tickling slightly.
Outside, a knocking sounded as servants came to wake Xue Jingci.
Looking more carefully, the little fox tumbled and bounced from the windowsill, its white fluffy form instantly swallowed by the brilliant peach blossoms.
Xue Jingci rarely saw Pei Huang look so nervous, thinking he was afraid the servants would see through his disguise.
He lifted the silk blanket and called out: “Come in.”
Two servants in pink butterfly-embroidered dresses entered one after another. One attended to Xue Jingci’s washing, the other smoothed wrinkles from the bed.
These maids walked without a sound, barely touching the ground. Without hearing the knock, even Xue Jingci wouldn’t have noticed them. Now approaching his side, he took a closer look.
He found it strange—they were barely past childhood, yet their faces were as pale as white paper, smiles painted on like decorations, eyes hollow and empty, emanating the stench of death.
The smell grew stronger. Xue Jingci frowned as the servant combed his hair, a thick burnt smell seeping from her tender skin.
“Did the young master return to his room last night?” she asked suddenly.
Xue Jingci rubbed his nose: “Of course. Wedding night, naturally I returned.”
The servant inserted a hairpin, covering her mouth with a giggle—a shrill, grating sound not like a young girl’s, more like something caught in her throat, spine-chilling.
She leaned down closer to his face, adjusting the flowers in his hair.
In the moment she bent, the copper mirror suddenly reflected a face burned black as charcoal, with barely visible skin around the eye sockets, only the eyes remaining, glaring at him with poisonous intent.
“This servant thought to remind the young master last night—for the newly married couple to wish for a hundred years of love, one must remember the rules of sharing a room.”
The servant lifted her head, the horrific face vanishing. Her voice, carrying coldness, drifted from behind: “Pity…”
Xue Jingci stared at the mirror thoughtfully for a moment, seeing only the faint reflection of his own image, nothing strange.
Just as he was about to look away, he suddenly glimpsed another red figure in the mirror, standing not far behind him.
The figure hung its head, dark hair like a waterfall obscuring its face.
But Xue Jingci felt the figure was quietly watching him.
Tired of being stared at, Xue Jingci directly manipulated the mirror toward the window.
Sunlight reflected off it, instantly refracting countless brilliant rays.
The two servants immediately gasped, their hands holding the hairpins trembling slightly.
Xue Jingci repositioned the mirror. The red figure inside had indeed vanished. He said flatly: “You may leave.”
Once the servants departed, Xue Jingci walked outside, his heart sinking.
That comment carried hidden meaning. Something was clearly wrong.
Thinking it over, Xue Jingci walked toward Xiao Xun’s residence. From a distance, he saw Xiao Xun with Lin Heng.
Lin Heng wore an abnormally terrified expression, one hand covering his mouth as if nauseous, his entire body curled on stone steps, trembling.
Xiao Xun crouched to pat his back, comforting him like a child: “Don’t be afraid. I’ve switched duty today with someone else. I’ll stay with you.”
Xue Jingci frowned slightly and walked over, asking: “What happened?”
Xiao Xun heard his familiar voice and immediately stood, answering: “Something strange happened in the mansion last night.”
Speaking urgently, he stared hard at Xue Jingci, unable to hide his concern: “You’re alright?”
Xue Jingci shook his head.
Hearing the two discuss last night’s events, Lin Heng became agitated, wanting to explain everything that happened to him. But shock made him speak confusedly, unable to clarify things properly.
Xiao Xun saw Xue Jingci was unhurt, relief washing over him. Calmly, he said: “Let me explain.”
Actually, the matter wasn’t complex when described, but thinking back gave one chills.
Yesterday’s wedding feast was lively, but Lin Heng was mansion staff, so he couldn’t rest properly.
Yet as tired as he was, upon entering this ghostly place, he didn’t dare sleep lightly.
Rolling around in bed until the second watch, he suddenly heard someone knocking. Just gaining drowsiness, he instantly woke up, irritably opening the door to find four or five familiar servants in pale red dresses, cheeks painted with vivid rouge.
Though it was strange to apply makeup late at night, given the mansion’s celebration today, Lin Heng didn’t think much of it, asking what they wanted.
If he were lecherous, he’d be delighted. But though Lin Heng was rough around the edges, he was late in this regard, so he wasn’t pleased.
But as the saying goes, you can’t hit a smiling face. The servants held up what they carried, smiling sweetly: “We’re too short to hang this wedding banner. If we miss the time, the housekeeper will scold us. Could you help us, young master?”
The girls looked at him eagerly. Even Lin Heng couldn’t refuse, agreeing: “What’s so difficult? Let me do it!”
He followed the servants to the arched gateway outside the colonnade—the path the newlyweds would take tomorrow morning. It was empty and bare. Without thinking, Lin Heng reached up to affix it.
The servants hurried to stop him: “Oh young master, the banner should hang high, symbolizing the newlyweds’ future prosperity. You’re so tall, could you place it higher?”
Lin Heng thought they were right, trying several times. Just when it seemed nearly at the top, the servants still complained it wasn’t high enough, urging him to stand on tiptoes.
After tossing around like this, drowsiness returned. He was about to comply when Xiao Xun rushed over and stopped him.
“What hour is it? Have you forgotten the night curfew rules and are still making trouble?”
Hearing this, the servants’ giggles froze, their expressions stiffening on their faces. They all turned their heads to stare at Xiao Xun.
Xiao Xun ignored them, stepped forward to tear down the banner, and pulled Lin Heng away decisively.
Lin Heng was confused. Xiao Xun was always proper—why would he embarrass these girls?
Being pulled away like this for several steps, he grew increasingly uneasy, finally unable to resist looking back.
That glance nearly frightened his soul away.
Under the dark red brick wall, the servants were thin, swaying in the wind—clearly paper effigies burned for the dead!
Their feet seemed rooted to the wall, wanting to chase but unable, only watching with poisonous intent as they left.
Lin Heng turned to Xiao Xun, stammering: “You… stopping me just now was because…”
Xiao Xun saw his legs go soft, half-carrying him back to the room. Once the servants didn’t follow, he quietly said: “Come inside first.”
They sat in silence the whole night until now, when Lin Heng finally recovered somewhat.
Xue Jingci listened seriously, finally understanding why Lin Heng was so terrified.
Lin Heng spoke fearfully: “The dead can’t touch ground. If I’d stood on tiptoes and voluntarily hung the banner, I’d have had to stay there instead of them.”
He looked at Xiao Xun: “Lucky you stopped me.”
Previously, Lin Heng had disliked Xiao Xun somewhat. This incident made him sigh that he’d been narrow-minded and must treat Xiao Xun with courtesy henceforth.
Then Xue Jingci recounted what he’d experienced that morning.
Xiao Xun calmed, analyzing with Xue Jingci: “I also faintly smelled burnt smell last night. These people were burned to death. Their resentment lingering unsolved made them bound spirits. But why can they move freely in the mansion and find substitutes…”
Xue Jingci agreed: “Before us, countless people must have come. Perhaps those people tried burning offerings at the wall to resolve the resentment, inadvertently allowing these spirits to possess the offerings, giving them mobility.”
Xiao Xun took a sharp breath, saying without hesitation: “These untimely-dead ghosts can’t reincarnate. They’ll use every means to find substitutes… If you ever find yourself in dire straits, run to me.”
He looked deeply into Xue Jingci’s eyes, speaking slowly: “I will definitely keep you safe.”
Hearing this, Lin Heng laughed: “Though you saved me once, my cultivation is stronger than yours. Don’t worry, we’ll be fine.”
Xue Jingci, hearing Xiao Xun’s sincerity, was moved. He smiled at him.
After the incident with Xie Zheng, he’d treated being a master as a task, not particularly close to Xiao Xun, often scolding him.
Xue Jingci looked at Xiao Xun and softly comforted: “Don’t worry. It’ll be fine.”
His eyes held a smile Xiao Xun had never seen before—soft and warm, like an invisible warm wind wrapping someone’s entire heart.
Xiao Xun was momentarily dazed. Not until Xue Jingci left did he reluctantly clench his fist, as if trying to hold onto something.
Walking away, Xue Jingci soon saw the servant who’d attended his grooming looking for him.
“City Master, it’s time for the meal.”
Hearing this, Xue Jingci realized he was actually hungry. Upon reaching the dining hall, he found Pei Huang already seated, staring strangely at the fish before him.
The mansion had a rule about silence during meals. The two exchanged a glance without speaking.
A servant served them, reaching for a large piece of fish to place in Pei Huang’s bowl.
Xue Jingci sniffed and discovered the fish was steamed without green onion or ginger, reeking of fishiness and very unpalatable.
Pei Huang had never liked fish, and this smell triggered unpleasant memories.
Seeing him not eating, the servant suddenly smiled strangely, staring at Pei Huang: “The young master usually loves fish. Why not eat today?”
Though doors and windows were shut with no breeze, the temperature suddenly dropped.
Pei Huang slightly frowned. Clearly he had to eat this fish.
Just as he picked up chopsticks, Xue Jingci suddenly instructed the servant: “Bring me some fruit wine.”
The servant stared blankly at Pei Huang for a moment before leaving. Xue Jingci picked up his chopsticks and rapidly picked up a large piece of fish, quickly eating until only bones remained.
With only the two in the room, Pei Huang sensed something was off, looking at Xue Jingci.
Xue Jingci merely shook his head, saying nothing.
After the meal, they returned to their room together. Once the door closed and they confirmed no one was in the courtyard, they both relaxed.
Xue Jingci said softly: “It seems daytime is relatively safe. Even if we deviate slightly from expected behavior, others won’t immediately act. But after nightfall, that’s another matter.”
He recounted his morning encounter and Lin Heng’s experience to Pei Huang.
Pei Huang’s face paled, instantly realizing he’d narrowly escaped disaster last night.
The servant knew he wasn’t in the study. She must have looked inside, possibly intending to kill him like those ghosts approaching Lin Heng!
He frowned: “The mansion grows sinister at night. Acting even slightly out of place brings fatal consequences. Impossible to guard against. Did you notice the candle flame turn blue last night?”
Xue Jingci shook his head: “No.”
Pei Huang was silent momentarily: “Last night when I went to the study, I lit the candle. It was fine, but when I left, I saw the flame turn blue. Perhaps it’s a harbinger, warning of approaching danger.”
Xue Jingci pondered briefly: “But not every place in the mansion has candlelight. We must be extra careful.”
Pei Huang nodded. The two went to the study and searched through what the city master and young master had left.
To not draw attention, they had to be meticulous in everything—from clothing colors to mannerisms.
The search lasted until evening. Remembering the servant’s words, Xue Jingci quickly pulled Pei Huang back to the bedroom.
The servant had been waiting outside early. Seeing them return, her neck didn’t move, but her head suddenly turned, revealing an eerie smile: “I’ll guard outside tonight. If the City Master and young master wake at midnight needing attendance, just call for me.”
Xue Jingci nodded, removed his outer robe, and got into bed. He gestured for Pei Huang to join him.
Pei Huang forced composure getting into bed, his gaze sweeping Xue Jingci’s slim form, his eyelashes trembling slightly.
Last night, transformed into a fox, he’d slept held in Xue Jingci’s arms. Even through the inner robes, he’d felt that jade-like coolness and soft skin.
Pei Huang turned, facing away from Xue Jingci, looking at the distant candlelight: “Sleep easy. I’ll watch the flame.”
Xue Jingci didn’t argue, closing his eyes and soon breathing evenly.
Pei Huang’s tense back finally relaxed somewhat.
He stared at the candle, with no mental energy for other thoughts.
Unknown time passed. The servant knocked, the not-yet-burned candle flickering violently, radiating an eerie blue light like floating ghost fires.
The servant outside knocked insistently. Black shadows dashed past the windows repeatedly, doors and windows shaking violently, about to break open.
Pei Huang’s heart tightened. He quickly woke Xue Jingci, his arm shielding the man behind him.
His other hand grasped black talismans, flinging them skyward in a line. Then, biting his fingertip, he slashed through the air.
The talismans glowed with blood light, instantly transforming into chains that tightly pressed against doors and windows.
Xue Jingci broke the silence: “It seems we made an error. Perhaps we need to actually consummate the marriage?”
Pei Huang, coldly analyzing the surrounding disturbances, was momentarily derailed.
He instantly panicked, at a loss for words, his mind a jumble. Finally, he managed two words: “…Now?”
Xue Jingci pondered briefly, then nodded. Pei Huang’s face flushed completely red when Xue Jingci suddenly grabbed one of the bed’s corner posts and shook vigorously.
The bed creaked. The disturbance outside paused momentarily.
Sensing its effectiveness, Xue Jingci gestured for Pei Huang to shake the bed while he lay back down.
Pei Huang opened his mouth, swallowing his words. His racing heartbeat settled from his throat back to his chest.
The bed shook violently, the hanging curtains vaguely silhouetting two figures—one kneeling, one lying—with occasionally hurried breathing.
The candle flickered, gradually returning to yellow. Xue Jingci said: “That’s enough.”
But Pei Huang didn’t stop, as if he’d picked a fight with the bed post, still shaking while saying: “No, the time’s too short.”
This was dignity.
Xue Jingci let him be, closing his eyes and soon breathing evenly.
Pei Huang continued shaking a bit longer, estimating the time before stopping. Seeing Xue Jingci asleep, he finally studied him openly.
The room was somewhat cold. Xue Jingci’s right hand rested on the red silk blanket, fingers long and beautiful, like white jade.
Pei Huang slowly leaned down and took Xue Jingci’s hand, trying to tuck it back under the blanket.
Two fingers bearing sword calluses slightly hooked, circling Pei Huang’s thumb. Pei Huang’s heart raced violently, anxiously looking at Xue Jingci. But that person still had eyes firmly closed—just a subconscious movement.
Pei Huang exhaled in relief, tucking Xue Jingci’s hand under the blanket before lying down himself.
One peaceful night passed. When Pei Huang tried to get up, Xue Jingci pulled his arm, causing him to tumble back onto the bed.
Xue Jingci sat up, studying Pei Huang thoughtfully.
After Pei Huang left yesterday, the servant came to attend his grooming. Soon, someone would knock. They needed to be even more careful.
He thought it over and lay back down, resting his head on Pei Huang’s shoulder.
Pei Huang seemed struck with a binding spell, too tense to move, stammering: “You… what are you doing?”
These days, Xue Jingci had seen Pei Huang composed, always the upper hand in any confrontation. This was the first time seeing him so flustered and embarrassed.
Finding it amusing, Xue Jingci swallowed his explanation, instead asking: “Are you shy?”
Pei Huang protested urgently: “Who’s shy? Why would I be shy?”
Seeing his denial, Xue Jingci said nothing, just rubbed his head against Pei Huang’s chest.
His form nearly pressed against Pei Huang’s, clearly hearing the suddenly accelerated heartbeat—thump-thump-thump like beating drums.
Xue Jingci, pressed against Pei Huang’s chest, lifted his head to look at him.
While lying down, the view was low. When Xue Jingci lifted his head, his neck stretched, and his collarbone peeked from his slightly open collar.
“Liar,” he said in his cool voice. “Your heart is racing.”
Pei Huang wanted to protest, but meeting Xue Jingci’s gaze, he found no words.
Xue Jingci’s pupils were pale, crystalline and transparent.
Normally, those eyes swept coldly over people and objects, never lingering on anything in the world. But now, Pei Huang could even see his own reflection in them.
Pei Huang’s heart trembled, unable to control the redness in his face.
Seeing his continued denial, Xue Jingci reached over and rubbed his ears, saying: “Your ears are red too.”
Pei Huang’s eyes darted away. He suddenly pushed Xue Jingci, trying to get up.
Xue Jingci pressed a hand to his chest, tilting slightly: “Don’t move.”
Then, Xue Jingci straightened Pei Huang’s head, leaning in closer.
Pei Huang’s heartbeat skipped, unable to understand what Xue Jingci intended. For his entire life, he’d never engaged in such intimate contact. He turned his gaze away, feeling Xue Jingci’s breath drawing closer, when suddenly his earlobe stung.
“Done.”
Pei Huang suddenly came to his senses, realizing Xue Jingci had bitten his ear. Here he’d thought…
Trying to act offended, he asked: “Why did you bite me?”
Xue Jingci looked down at the mark on Pei Huang’s ear. The teeth marks were clear, faintly bleeding, surely not disappearing all day.
Only then did he relax, explaining: “The act requires complete performance.”
Pei Huang suddenly understood: “You’re afraid they won’t believe us.”
Relief mixed with something else in his chest. He knew they could now interact normally with Xue Jingci, yet felt inexplicably disappointed.
Pei Huang suppressed those inappropriate thoughts, only to realize Xue Jingci was still lying on him.
His breathing caught. Just as he was about to say something, Xue Jingci raised his hand, moving his ink-dark hair aside, slightly lowering his head to reveal a snow-white neck.
“Choose. Where would you like to bite?”