In a Grand Selection Year, at the foot of the imperial city’s walls, plain for the whole world to see, the son of a high court official had gone noiselessly to see the kings of the underworld.

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 this was serious. They immediately fended off the observers and notified Heaven's Design Pavilion.

This Heaven's Design Pavilion was an outer sect of the state sect Xuanyin.

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

A “walker in the mortal world” was a cultivator of the “open-eyed phase,” who had one foot in 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-robed half-immortals.”

Cultivators in the open-eyed phase 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 upheld righteousness. Xuanyin stationed them in Great Wan to protect society and keep the peace. Under normal circumstances, they weren’t under the court’s control; when necessary, they could even mobilize up to a thousand troops from the local garrisons.

The walkers in the mortal world from Heaven's Design Pavilion came very quickly—in Jinping City, apart from the head office of Heaven's Design Pavilion, 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 watch at these stations.

The Azure Dragon Heart Tower happened to be near the pleasure boat ferry crossing. The captain on duty at the Heart Tower tonight was named Zhao 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 all at once, 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 each made way, respectfully calling out “Exalted.”

Zhao Yu kept his gaze focused straight ahead, striding towards 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. Those are the deceased’s family members now.”

“Haunts have many means. Before the body has been thoroughly examined, don’t let the mortals come over here and make trouble for us,” Zhao Yu ordered lightly. Then he asked, “Who is the dead man?”

The officer responded: “Vice-Minister of War Wang’s son.”

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

The officer gave an affirmative, then turned to give his subordinate the order. Holding up a lantern himself, he dogged Zhao Yu’s steps and offered up a green jade token wrapped in cloth. “Exalted, this fell from the deceased. There’s writing on it.”

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

Before Zhao Yu could take a closer 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 servant… 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 he never came 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, “Yes, sir.”

“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’s fingers travelled up the corpse’s torso, lightly tapping three acupoints along the Conception Vessel—Yuanguan, Qihai, Shanzhong—and finally, he pressed his fingers abruptly into the Tiantu 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 away 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, the black was shot through with rusty dark red.

“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 this fellow’s condition didn't seem especially fresh.

Zhao Yu ordered: “Shave his hair.”

The city guard officer had gone overboard trying to curry favor. He happened to be on hand 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 leapt to his feet—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 token with the horoscope written on it in his hand. His expression became slightly grim. “The dark veil. He’s been forced into an underworld marriage.”

 

Xi Ping only heard about this the next morning.

The night before, he had gracefully “flown” into Prince Zhuang Manor. His Highness Prince Zhuang had been born sickly. He had dim sight disease, which caused the sufferer’s organs to release polluted fluids that traveled to the eyes, leading to blurred vision. Startled in the middle of the night, he threw on his clothes and went to have a look, and nearly went blind altogether. He thrice scolded “disgraceful” and told his servants to haul 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 fold his fan. The words “Peerless Beauty” were written on the fan and lay 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 to his senses. He looked distressed. “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 Xishi among men.² He was in the habit of 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, “Not at all. Not to worry, Viscount, 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 forced into an underworld marriage?”

“It’s a forbidden technique that haunts use to kill people,” the walker in the mortal world patiently explained. “The evildoer finds 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, mix these 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 whatever 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 forced into 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.’”

When Xi Ping had heard this out, he was startled. “No, wait a moment, that’s… Exalted, are you saying that a ghost stole Big Dog Wang away to be a groom… no, a bride? What kind of ghost has tastes so 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 last night searching the pleasure boat ferry crossing and 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 had considerable self-possession. He didn’t take offense at Xi Ping’s words, only said, “Viscount, 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.”

“Then are you aware of who might have had a grudge against the deceased?” Zhao Yu continued.

Xi Ping gave a ha. Warming to his subject, he folded his fan. “Plenty of them. 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…”

Watching him grow more and more disgraceful as he went on, Prince Zhuang was forced to interrupt him once more. “He wasn’t sternly disciplined as a child. He’s been spoiled out of all seeming. You’ll have to excuse him, Exalted.”

The Viscount of Yongning’s “illustrious reputation” was known far and wide. Zhao Yu had heard of him before. One look at the man himself told him that he wouldn’t get anything useful out of him. He could only turn toward Prince Zhuang and say, “Haunts 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. We hope all the city’s noble people will be careful of their safety. Also, those who die by being forced into an underworld marriage often carry corpse poison. 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 from his collection. 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 there was an Exalted Zhao at Heaven's Design Pavilion who is an expert. By 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.”

Zhao Yu smiled when he heard this. 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 his lotus crisp. In spite of himself, he was filled with veneration toward the blue-robed 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 had nothing to say to him to begin with; he had planned to leave once the official business was out of the way. 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. Leave the painting…”

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, when he saw 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 ring, 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 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-wracking. If it really had been fake, I would have humiliated myself in front of you.” Having said this, Prince Zhuang ordered his servants 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 his hands on 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 his ability 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 ancient painting. After dithering in silence for a long time, he tucked his Viewing Wave, which had grown slightly scalding, into his palm. He cupped his hands respectfully and quietly said, “Such being the case, I thank Your Highness. If there is any errand you may have…”

“Oh no,” Prince Zhuang interrupted him, “I wouldn’t dare. I only wanted to accumulate a bit of merit. It is the blessings of the immortal sect and the protection of you Exalteds that allows us to live peacefully in Jinping.”

Zhao Yu gave him a profound look and took the painting. He rose and bid farewell. 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 rub.

“Go away.” Prince Zhuang turned, and his face fell. The smile that seemed to live 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.

The surname of Great Wan’s imperial family was Zhou. His Third Highness Prince Zhuang’s given name was Ying. He looked as mild as jade. With his air of sickliness in addition to that, 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 zodiac has clashed with Tai Sui this year.³ I’m having a year of bad luck.” Xi Ping pinched a 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 one of mine. She was in an awkward situation… Well, and I 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’s arguing?” Xi Ping slapped his thigh. “It’s one thing to bump into each other. Awkward enough. Couldn’t we just pretend we didn’t know each other and let it go? 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 defied description. 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 can drink it myself… Hey… Damn, what is this taste? Was this talisman drawn on toilet paper?”

“Any more nonsense out of you 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 thick as a city wall. 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 to 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. Leave him some dignity at his age.”

The Marquis of Yongning’s threshold being made of “water” was no secret—during the reign of the previous emperor, Great Wan’s noble houses had colluded. The emperor’s in-laws had brought about disaster, raising a stink in court. This emperor was a steely-hearted personage. After succeeding to the throne, he silently endured for many years. Once he had brought order out of chaos, he cut down his in-laws until flowers bloomed on their ancestral tombs; he had even nearly killed his own empress.

Many of the emperor’s women were of noble birth, and most of them suffered some fallout from their families’ actions. 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. Their attention was all on spending their own money, and they caused no disasters for the realm, no misery for its 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 made the Imperial Consort’s older brother 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 had yet to supplant 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 gave a laugh. “A dog father can’t rear a tiger cub. Look at me. Does the Marquis have any face to lose?”

Prince Zhuang had absolutely nothing to say to this.

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. The Xuanyin Mountains are 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.

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 climbed nimbly to his feet. “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.