Chapter 6 Zhao Jinqian

“Has it really been so long that you no longer recognize me?”

All eyes turned toward him, and Xu Xuan, somewhat amused, touched his nose.

“Oh, it’s the young master!”

“Quick, come inside. The lord was just mentioning you.”

At once, the underworld officials welcomed Xu Xuan with bright smiles, bustling to usher him in. Even the City God, who had been poring over petitions, looked up with a smile as he entered.

“You rascal, you never come to my temple unless you need something. What brings you here today?”

The City God set aside his papers and sipped his tea.

“Hehe, nothing escapes Master’s eyes. Recently, I’ve made an enemy of Second Lord Bear from West Mountain, and now I intend to settle matters with him. My skills are shallow, my powers weak, and I fear I won’t be his match. I beseech you, Master, to grant me something for my protection.”

Xu Xuan was never one for ceremony with his master and spoke plainly of his purpose.

“Scoundrel, so you’ve come to scrounge from me again. Very well, let me divine your fortune.”

With that, the City God took three copper coins from the desk, arranged them, and formed a sigil with his fingers. A wisp of white mist fell upon the coins.

“Rise!”

At his command, the coins rolled, landing in his left palm. He slapped his right hand over them, shook them together, and finally scattered the coins on the desk.

The officials all stared intently at the coins, their faces puzzled.

“Master, what does the reading say?” Xu Xuan, unfamiliar with divination, could only wait anxiously.

“The tail and the head are not alike; fortune brings fresh prospects. The traveler finds a new lodging; the path leads to a village bright with blossoms.”

The City God stroked his beard, a smile playing on his lips.

“What does that mean, my lord?” The martial judge, face dark, was clearly confused.

“You really are thickheaded. This is an auspicious omen—withered wood meets spring, a noble patron aids, and the carp transforms into a dragon.”

The civil judge cast the martial judge a sidelong glance and explained at once.

“So, though there will be twists on this journey, the young master will find help and resolve things smoothly,” said White Impermanence, his face pale and tongue crimson, pondering the words.

“There will certainly be challenges in resolving this feud, but the outcome will be favorable. Though the underworld does not meddle in the affairs of the living, you are my disciple. Since you have asked, I shall grant you some aid.”

The City God grew thoughtful for a moment, his tone meaningful.

“Thank you, Master. What kind of aid will you be giving me?”

“Impatient, are you? You’ll know soon enough. It’s been some time since you last visited—come, drink with me.”

It was mealtime in the underworld. At the City God’s command, the feast was quickly laid.

Yet Xu Xuan’s mind was on anything but wine; he wished only for the City God to bestow him a magical artifact so he could be about his business on West Mountain. But seeing his master so cheerful, he could not bear to spoil his mood.

Delicacies filled the table. Xu Xuan took his seat, and master and disciple drank heartily, surrounded by the lively company of underworld officials.

The City God had once been a great scholar and was fond of poetry. Xu Xuan, having learned much verse in his past life, recited lines at the banquet, each one earning the City God’s hearty laughter and praise.

After a while, the City God beckoned to the civil judge, whispered something in his ear, and the judge nodded, excused himself, and left.

Soon he returned, accompanied by a breathtaking young woman in the full bloom of youth.

“Zhao Jinqian, daughter of the Zhao family, pays her respects to the City God. Blessings upon you, my lord.”

At once, Zhao Jinqian curtsied, her voice gentle as dew on bamboo leaves.

“Rise, there’s no need for formality.”

“Lady Qian, sit beside the young master and serve the wine.”

The civil judge smiled at Xu Xuan, his eyes hinting at mischief.

“Yes, sir.”

With another curtsy, Lady Qian gracefully took her place at Xu Xuan’s side, pouring him a cup of wine.

With such exquisite beauty so near, Xu Xuan caught a faint fragrance. Yet he frowned slightly, unsure what was unfolding.

Still, he accepted things as they came. Since the City God had asked the lady to serve him, there must be a reason.

“Your name is beautiful—splendid as brocade, lush as new growth.”

“Thank you for your praise, young master.”

Zhao Jinqian seemed delicate and gentle, evoking a sense of pity.

The feast continued, though Xu Xuan felt awkward with such a beauty beside him. Yet Zhao Jinqian was composed, courteous with all the officials, refilling Xu Xuan’s cup from time to time.

Wine flowed freely, and Xu Xuan grew somewhat tipsy. As the saying goes, wine emboldens even the timid, and in his haze, he stole a glance at the ghostly maiden before him.

She had kept her eyes down, but sensing his gaze, she looked up and met his eyes.

Under the bright lanterns, their eyes met. Her gaze was clear as autumn water, bewitching in its depth.

Being a spirit, Zhao Jinqian’s complexion was paler than the living, frail and delicate, evoking compassion. Yet beneath that fragile beauty was a subtle allure, making one want to look again.

Xu Xuan studied her, and Zhao Jinqian observed him in turn.

She saw in the young master a gentle jade-like grace, heroic bearing, and an air of nobility. Schooled in the classics since childhood, he carried an aura of righteousness; his eyes were deep, his brows strong. Amid these spectral figures, he stood out like a crane among chickens, strikingly distinguished.

“Elder sister, your face is unfamiliar—I don’t recall seeing you before?”

To ease the awkwardness, Xu Xuan took the initiative to speak.

“Replying to the young master, I was once a wandering ghost in Green Wave Lake, wronged and killed, bound by hatred, nearly becoming a vengeful spirit. Recently, the City God enlightened me and allowed me to serve as a scribe in the temple. With enough cultivation, I may someday be spared the suffering of reincarnation.”

Her voice was soft as she recounted her story.

Had she become a vengeful spirit, losing all reason, she would have wrought havoc, doomed to divine punishment or destruction at the hands of exorcists—her soul forever scattered.

“Lady Qian was kind in life, donating much incense to the temple. How could I abandon her?” The City God raised his cup and drank.

“I hear Lady Qian danced beautifully in life. Now that the young master is here, I shall play the qin—would you grace us with a dance?”

The civil judge, seeing the mood high, offered this suggestion.

“Then I shall obey.”

Zhao Jinqian did not refuse. She moved to the center of the hall as music began. With a painted fan in hand, she danced—her form supple and graceful, her white gauze fluttering like an otherworldly fairy, pure and untouched by dust.

Watching her dance like a spirit, Xu Xuan could not help but murmur,

“With a silk fan as white as orchid, slender waist and jade sash swirl the sky. She seems a fairy come to earth, one smile outshines the stars on high.”

“Exquisite verse!” The City God’s eyes shone with approval.

The civil judge, too, was amazed; the young master was indeed a scholar, with a gift for poetry.

Even the martial judge, Ox-Head, Horse-Face, and the Impermanence brothers, though ignorant of poetry, found the words beautiful.

When the dance ended, applause filled the hall.

The civil judge’s music, Zhao Jinqian’s dance, and Xu Xuan’s verse brought the banquet to its peak.

Hearing the poem, Zhao Jinqian was deeply pleased. In this age, whether in life or death, to be immortalized in poetry was an honor beyond compare.

She had been born to a family of scholars and understood well the praise in Xu Xuan’s poem.

Returning to sit by his side, her flawless face revealed a hint of shy delight.

She poured Xu Xuan a cup of wine, then quietly filled one for herself.

“Thank you for your poem, young master.”

With that, she raised her cup and drank.

It was a fruit wine of the underworld—sweet and mild. Perhaps she drank too quickly, for she coughed lightly, and in that small moment, a droplet of clear wine slipped from her lips.

Seated opposite Xu Xuan, as he drank, he watched that droplet trace a path down her pale neck, leaving a faint mark before vanishing into the depths of her collar.

His gaze followed, drawn irresistibly to that snowy whiteness, lost in its beauty.